


Long Way

by Kit_SummerIsle



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Rape, Spanking, Sticky Sex, Threesome, Torture, dp, non-con, pain-play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-22 23:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_SummerIsle/pseuds/Kit_SummerIsle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starscream defected to the Autobots and lives with the twins. They play… and then the play turns rough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Defector

**Author's Note:**

> written for an anon kinkmeme prompt: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=12416256t12416256
> 
> POV changes between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker

“Starscream!”

Sideswipe’s voice held urgency and an order that Starscream automatically obeyed. His optics came online, their red light flickering in the darkness of the room, met with a pair of blue lights and slowly started to calm down - after scrambling away until his wings met the wall by the berth. It took a little while before his vents slowed down from their labored venting and his spark didn’t spin frantically with the terror of the dream any more. After the first, automatic but aborted move of his servo coming up to protect his cockpit he nodded to the red twin, unable to speak just yet, but signalling that he recognized where he was and who with. 

Sideswipe saw that he onlined fully and moved closer on the berth, one servo lightly petting the still trembling wings. The nightmares were definitely decreasing in frequency, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with one when it came. Starscream never looked so much broken and helpless than in these few breems while he was recovering from the nightmares, induced by his all too real memories of Megatron’s abuse. The twins didn’t know all the details about it as Starscream understandably never wanted to talk of it to them and Ratchet was bound by the medical oath not to reveal what he learned from both examining the Seeker after he defected or what he told the medic outright. Still, Sideswipe could guess. Not that he particularly wanted to imagine how or why anyone could torture the Seeker so much – the mech had a sharp glossa and not fearing to use it either and had a definite problem with authority but all in all it wasn’t as though he was intolerable.

It was a surprise when he came over, completely on his own, and at the beginning, very few Autobots trusted him to any degree. Probably only Optimus Prime, who said that in his books anyone could have a second chance, even the Seeker. Still, it must have been hell for Starscream – unable to trust any mech, universally hated on both sides, losing his trine; while trying to prove his sincerity with words and actions. But even after groons, very few Autobots came to trust him or just let him close. He flew with the Aerialbots sometimes, but the tensions were almost visible between them and they soon stopped it for the lack of worthwhile improvements. He mostly worked in the labs with Wheeljack and Skyfire, an uneasy and stressed working relationship with them both, weighed heavily with the past and unsolved complications. 

Skyfire’s coldness towards the Seeker surprised almost every bot really. As much as he had been trying to defend Starscream’s actions and protect his renown while he was a Decepticon, everyone expected him to welcome the Seeker with open arms when he finally defected. But for whatever reasons, the shuttle turned all cold and formal once he had Starscream nearby, like he would’ve preferred the old Starscream, the one he had known, rather than the real item, the real present-orn former Decepticon turned defector with all his issues. Of which he had plenty. They worked together, because they had to, but Sideswipe knew from a few visits to the lab that it was far from being an easy colleagueship and no closer to improving on it than they were at first.

Truth to be told, he came into contact with Starscream in a less than optimal way as well; the prank he played was cruel and humiliating and in retrospect, he admitted that he really deserved the Seeker clawing his faceplates in real anger. When he denied being the culprit automatically, Prowl had no choice than send Starscream to the brig for infighting. The nanoklik before Starscream collected himself and pasted the usual arrogant, sneering expression on his dark faceplates was what made Sideswipe shut up and start thinking. That slight trembling of those lipplates, that sheer helplessness in those red optics and the way his proud wings sagged for a klik before he hitched them up again and the mask slammed into place… it made the red twin feel awful for his actions.

He got to watch the Seeker sit tight and unmoving on the brig berth for a long shift in front of the monitors – Prowl might not been able to prove him guilty, but suspected it none the less and the extra shift was as much his punishment as it could be – and wonder what it could feel like to be rejected by every mech around him, unable to contend with the prejudice and constantly mocked for who and what he was. When he shared it later that night cycle with Sunstreaker he found that his twin understood it better than he thought; for much of their lives, he was similarly rejected for his violent, antisocial nature, while Sideswipe got on far better with mechs.

After some soul-searching, they ended up taking some apologetic high grade to the brig in the middle of the night cycle, sent Bluestreak to recharge and coaxed Starscream to drink it with them. After discovering that he was a lightweight and so drinking most of it themselves amidst drunken and mushy talk that Sideswipe tried hard later to forget and was sure that the others did the same, they sort of warmed up towards each other. After all, at the beginning of the morning shift they all onlined inside the cell snuggled together, having overcharge-induced processor aches and broken memories of much of the night cycle… and a very displeased-looking Prowl standing by their throbbing helms. It made them close. Far from being trusting or sympathetic in either way just yet, but in a strange way… close enough.

After that, they studiously avoided anything that could be called deep or sentimental conversation, but usually sat and talked together in the rec-room, to the surprise of about every other mech, went for long rides with Starscream flying overhead and taunting them for being slower – and instead of exploding about it, the twins laughed and taunted him back with promises of Jet Judo. He was even willing to practice it with them and that was where their intimate relationship emerged, right in the training room… and they became casual lovers. At first and for some time afterwards Starscream didn’t stay with them after the interface and they wondered the reason for that; when he first did though, they realized that it wasn’t lack of trust in them, but the nightmares tormenting him almost every night cycle back then.

Sideswipe wasn’t a particularly compassionate mech, but when he realized one orn that Starscream had to suffer the terror of those nightmares all alone, every time since his defection groons ago, he shuddered uneasily and convinced him to stay with them whenever he could. Their presence seemed to work wonders though and the screaming-trembling bouts appeared to be decreasing in frequency until it was actually rare that he had to wake Starscream up to break the nightmare. Since Sunstreaker was on a punishment patrol this cycle, Sideswipe was alone to deal with the still trembling Seeker, but he didn’t mind it.

“It’s all right Star. You’re safe. It was just a dream. Not real.”

He saw the jerky nod and knew that he could get closer. Hugging Starscream’s shoulder, mindful of the wings he continued to talk until he felt the trembling go away and the tensing cables relax again. They both knew that he shouldn’t go back to recharge straight away, as it would restart the dream too, so they stayed up, sitting together by the wall. His petting then started to become more sensuous, moving from the flat expanse of the wing to the ailerons that they learned to be extremely sensitive. Starscream reacted, wordlessly turning his helm towards him and their lips found each other with an urgent, aggressive kiss.

Sideswipe was always careful with Starscream and even Sunstreaker tried to control himself with him – they couldn’t imagine hurting the Seeker after all he’s been through. The black servo caressed the red and white plating gently, delving into seams to coax those exquisite moans from Starscream’s scratchy vocalizer, getting closer to his interface panel all the time. He encouraged the Seeker lay back to the berth, leaning over him with his caresses, determined to dispel the nightmare with far more pleasant sensations. He dipped a few digits into the pectoral vents, drawing them slowly around and around the rim and flitting between the slats, enjoying the pleasured moans that the action caused. The smell of his lubricants was already in the air and the first drops could be seen in the seams of his closed panel.

Starscream fondled a wire in his shoulder seam, one that he knew that it would drive the red twin into incoherence if he let the flier do it for long. He twinned his other servo with the Seeker’s to draw it away from that spot and leaning in, licked the sensitive neck cables. Starscream nodded his helm to the side to give him better access for them, his hips already trying to buck up to seek out more contact, more stimulus. Both twins have noted that Starscream was almost completely unfamiliar with foreplay, heating up fast and diving into the interface itself almost straight away – and they both decided without any conscious conversation or even a decision to teach him that part and not ask why he’d need to lubricate by the first klik of a face.

He wasn’t going to hurry it this time either, Sideswipe decided as he continued to pleasure all the seams on his way from the wings till the red and already hot interface panel. He even decided to bypass it once arriving there and fondled the hip seams, slid his tingling digits down the slender thighs that trembled in lust at their passage. Massaging the knee joints lightly, leaving the delicious neck cables by necessity, Sideswipe heard the first sounds of impatience. Laughing lightly, he drove his digits back, upwards on those delectable tights until they reached the red pelvic plates. Starscream’s talons scratched impatient lines into his back plating and the interface panel snapped open at his first touch there, accompanied by throaty sounds of need and want.

“Sides! Want you…!”

The black digits massaged the panel’s edges, circling inward, finding his already rising spike and the valve that wept milky lubricants plentiful. Dipping his digits into the silky substance, Sideswipe smeared it onto his spike, stroking its red length and touching lightly, gently the tip. His other hand kept the spasming hips down as he rose back up for another kiss to silence Starscream’s impatience. Rubbing their spikes together lightly, he occupied himself with the Seeker’s mouth, their glossas playing, nearly fighting for dominance and at the end he was only happy to give Starscream the victory in this battle. 

Once the kiss ended he straddled the nearly incoherent Seeker’s hips, positioning his own dripping valve over the Seeker’s spike. Leaning over him, he licked and kissed the trembling cockpit glass slowly while he lowered his hips and his valve entrance teasingly rubbed at the tip of the spike. 

“Sides! Want! Now!”

Okay, so he was just _nearly_ incoherent yet. Starscream bucked up, lifting one blue thrustered pede over Sideswipe’s hip, trying to draw him lower, and finally the red frontliner complied. Lowering his hips, impaling his valve on the red spike they moaned in tandem as the sensation started to overwhelm their processors. Slowly, he sank down and teased the nearby plating with deft digits.

“Move! Fragging move!”

Smirking widely, Sideswipe did as he was told. Sinking until the spike disappeared into him till the hilt, and rising until it almost bobbed out and repeating the motion – but slowly, teasingly, determined to drive the writhing jet into pleasure until he was unable to speak coherently.

“S-sidesss….! P-pleas-se!”

He quickened his movement a tiny bit, raising the charge by increments, tightening his valve calipers occasionally and enjoying the breathy gasps that those actions elicited. Starscream’s blue servos held onto him like he was a lifeline, his dark helm was thrown back, optics closed tightly and those amazing wings trembled against the soft surface of the berth. He was a beautiful sight, one that Sideswipe would watch for joors if he could. But he wasn’t just watching now and he felt Starscream’s spike start to twitch irregularly in his valve, loosing the rhythm of trusts as his overload crept closer and closer, despite of the red twin’s effort to slow it down. 

He was incoherent now, throaty moans continuous, interspersed with pleasured little grunts as Sideswipe slammed his hips down, constricted his calipers and rode his spike in a speed far faster than he‘s done so far. He was close to completion too, the red twin knew in his hazy processor, but not as close as Starscream, whom he felt bowing up from the berth, mouth open in the rapture of pleasure. Sideswipe dropped himself once more, tightening his valve around the hot intruder and felt it erupting, heard the shriek that made him wince even in the midst of his own pleasure. The spike hitting the ceiling node and the scorching hot transfluid jetting into his valve threw him over the edge too and leaning onto the thighs, bowing backwards he, too roared his completion into the dark night cycle of the Ark while their transfluid splattered the berth around them.

He slumped forward, shaking arms holding him up from collapsing onto the heaving red plates. Hot air puffed onto him from Starscream’s overworked vents, the jet’s mouth still open in the perfect o of his overload. Had he knocked the Seeker offline, Sideswipe wondered in his sated, sluggish processor, if so, it would be the first time for that. But no, he was moaning again, so low, almost imperceptible, only the purring conveying it where crimson armour met cherry red plating. He kissed the sweet, dark lips again, his own glossa slow and lazy after the amazing overload. An equally sluggish effort greeted his sated one and silent laughter shook the white wings. He was going to say something snarky, once he could think of something and leave the delectable mouth.

Bu instead, he felt his processor slow down and power down into recharge that his protocols demanded. He missed too much of it the last few nights and it caught up with him. Venting hot air once more he slumped onto the slowly cooling, but still pretty comfy, warm Seeker underneath. It was good that they were of similar size. But before he could loose the thread of consciousness, he felt Starscream squirming slightly.

“S-sides… geroff, please…”

“Right… sorry…”

Starscream spoke quietly, in a voice tinged with a tiny thread of uneasiness that Sideswipe had no processing power right then to solve. Obediently, he lifted himself off the withdrawing spike and slid down beside the Seeker, with his last thought mindful of not laying on the wing. Starscream seemed to be satisfied with the arrangement and they fell back into the disrupted recharge straight away, the nightmare forgotten and overwritten so firmly with pleasure that it wouldn’t come up again.


	2. Lovers

“Had a good time without me?” – Sunstreaker’s disappointed voice, tinged with anger woke them from recharge barely a few joors later. He was tired and dirty and with him these things never bode well – but to see that he was left out of the fun while on patrol made him even crankier. The transfluid splattered berth and the two frames cuddling together was a clear indication as to what they were doing during the night cycle.

“We love you too Sunny…” – came Sideswipe’s mumbled, recharge-heavy voice from the cuddle pile. – “But Stars had a nightmare again.”

“Don’t call me that!”

Sunstreaker snapped back at his twin, but his ire was softened by the explanation he was given. In fact he was hard put not to smile as a dark helm was lifted from between his twin’s arms, trying to glower angrily at the noise disturbing his recharge but failing spectacularly in it. Sunstreaker smirked at the sight and drew a blue servo closer to him.

“Come on. You need a shower almost as much as me.”

Starscream pouted but got up obediently enough – he was almost as fanatic about being clean as Sunstreaker himself. In the wash racks they could almost keep their servos to themselves… almost. Sunstreaker never failed to catch a wing or two under the solvent pattering on their plating and Starscream loved his sensitive appendages cleaned meticulously with those knowing and friendly servos. He moaned as the black digits dipped into the seams, ostensibly to clean the dirt from them and had to grab a support to be able to stay upright on his suddenly weakening knee joints. 

Sunstreaker’s throaty laugh sounded altogether too close to his audials as he pushed the unresisting Seeker to the wall, dropping all pretense of cleaning as he stroked the flat of the white wings with flat servos, spread digits almost, but not quite scratching sparks from the trembling metal. He brushed his lips on the neck cables, denta lightly scraping the metal and glossa soothing the marks he left and his powerful frame wedged the Seeker into the corner of the wash racks, flush onto his back plating, pelvis rubbing on his pert, red aft. A minute trembling ran through the Seeker’s frame that was definitely not sensual and Sunstreaker caught it at once. He stepped back, letting him have more space, the touches gentling on the warm metal of the wings.

“Don’t…! Ahhh… Don’t stop now!”

“You were…”

“Nothing!”

“I felt it. Don’t act for me like that.”

“It was nothing. I enjoyed what you were doing and now… continue it!”

“If you are sure…?”

“Yes!”

Still, Sunstreaker turned them together so Starscream was not directly in the corner. He knew that it wasn’t a claustrophobic reaction, the wash racks were big enough for all three of them even, but whatever caused it, he wanted to avoid. The problem was, Starscream loved to have his wings molested and that meant approaching him from behind… with all the attendant complications. Well… no mech said that it was easy to live with a paranoid Seeker with issues bigger than the Sonic Canyons. He gentled his touches but continued where he had left off.

“I’m not breakable, you know?” – Starscream’s voice was a little breathless but tinged with annoyance too.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” – For Sunstreaker, it wasn’t easy to admit. But he knew firsthand what abuse was and sympathized with the Seeker like he did with no other mech. He fondled the wingtips in a way that drew marvelous sounds from the Seeker. Usually.

“But you don’t … yes, that, Sunny! ... don’t have to handle me like I was… ahhh… untouched either.”

“You are far from untouched, in that we all agree.” – he smirked and nipped the sensuous neck again lightly while his left servo slid down from the wing to grope the red aft.

“Then stop… yessss! ... stop stopping when you think you a-act s-strongly!”

The last words were moaned in a rather distracted voice, which was Sunstreaker’s goal. The Seeker’s panel snapped open at the light petting and immediately purple lubricant dripped into the solvent, drawing abstract patterns around their pedes. Starscream turned to fully face Sunstreaker, lifted one long, slim leg and hooked it around Sunstreaker’s hips, rubbing his exposed array onto his pelvic plates. 

“F-fragger… ahhh… hope you’ll finish… what you s-started.”

“Definitely…”

Sunstreaker slipped a digit into the slick valve, while mouthing those strong neck cables that were his favourite targets. He wasn’t teasing Starscream for long and after a few strokes with his digit, his panel snicked open, his golden spike rising defiantly between them. Rubbing its head to the rim of the Seeker’s valve, he kissed Starscream deeply and thrust in. He was still holding back a bit, curbing his own more rough and violent interfacing style, even after the assurance that the caution wasn’t needed. 

“S-sunny!”

“Star…!”

He thrust deep and fondled the chest vents, reducing Starscream to a moaning mass of hot metal in his embrace, holding him up more by this time than the Seeker’s own leg. Starscream ground red hips down on his to maximize contact between them. His claws slid on the golden plating as he held on for support, mindful, as always not to scratch the golden paint. His fans worked fully to expel scorching hot air from his overcharged systems and he moaned with every thrust Sunstreaker made. 

The golden twin was starting to feel the impending overload in the arhythmically clenching, spiraling calipers that tried to draw his spike deep. He didn’t fight them. Grinding his hips to the Seeker he strained to hit the deepest nodes, hugging him close under the still pattering solvent that failed to cool their lust down, instead tickled and teased the oversensitive sensors under the flaring armour plates. 

“Ahhhhh…!”

Starscream threw his dark helm back, mouth opening in a rapture as Sunstreaker finally hit the ceiling node in his valve, flinging him into an immediate and loud overload. The Seeker usually muffled his cries of pleasure, but sometimes, like this time, one of them could catch him unawares and he lived up to his name, screaming his ecstasy over the regular soundproofing, every personnel quarters had. 

“Sun-strea-keeeer!”

Sunstreaker couldn’t hold back any more and didn’t even want to after that shout. The constricting, spasming valve threw him too into his overload and he shouted out just after the Seeker, whole frame tensing up at the height of his bliss, by some automatic reflex still holding them both up in the slippery wash-racks. Starscream though felt like he melted his struts completely, as he leaned his whole, limp weight on the frontliner.

Sunstreaker felt his twin’s servos slip under his own, helping him keep the offline Seeker upright while unobtrusively support his own weight too. Sideswipe apparently onlined fully from recharge – not surprising with the racket they both made. His twin’s laughing mental voice affirmed his theory. Together they finished cleaning the old and new transfluid and lubricant splatters from all their plating and after a quick dry, they carried Starscream back to the berth. With all the interrupted recharge and Sunstreaker’s patrol, they all had a serious backlog of offline rest.


	3. Want

Sideswipe onlined to a lightly tickling sensation in the area of his backplates. Confirming that he was indeed lying on his front between Sunny and Star, with an arm thrown across both their chests, and a quick check told him that his twin was still offline, he deduced that the culprit must be Starscream, more or less doodling on his back. If he concentrated, he could even guess at the exact glyphs the Seeker was absentmindedly drawing with his deadly sharp talons. The scrabbles weren’t carving into the paint, the claws only slid on the surface, not leaving a mark, barely perceivable to him. Without moving, he increased the sensitivity of sensors in the area, curious what was flitting around in that beautiful dark helm of his. 

But as his processor worked out the glyphs, he became more awake, more serious. _Love_ , the glyph said mutely before it was sharply scratched out, _duty_ , the talons drew, _trust_ , before it was overwritten with _pain_ and _alone_ … it wasn’t a happy little Seeker still, he concluded, no matter how much they tried to make it better. He was leaning on one elbow, the other sliding on the red plates before him, faceplates scrunched up in deep thought. Sideswipe slid one servo closer to him, caressing the cockpit lightly.

“What’s wrong sweetling?” – he asked quietly.

He saw the red optic flare in surprise and the ashen faceplates close up behind his mask.

“Nothing… nothing you can help.”

“Maybe we can… if you trust us.”

“I do.”

“Up to a point.”

“Obviously.”

“What can we do to extend this trust?”

Starscream stared at him silently for a long breem almost. Sideswipe waited patiently to the answer, by this time quite used to the Seeker’s occasional spacing out acts that he explained as deep thinking during which he didn’t perceive the outside world. Or observed it in such detail and intensity that literally shut down the superfluous motor control. It was queer but acceptable to the red frontliner and having just come out of recharge, he still had a little laziness to help waiting it out. 

“In time… it will come.” – he answered at last, a bit reserved – “ Or not.”

Sideswipe felt the emptiness of the answer. Not exactly false, he thought, but not the whole truth either. He was hiding something, not wanting to tell yet.

“It is all right.” – he answered to what was and wasn’t said – “Take your time. It isn’t like we don’t enjoy you being around now.”

He hoped that the Seeker wasn’t going to leave them, that the secret wasn’t something they did and he didn’t like… but couldn’t be sure. Starscream didn’t give any indication of that, but he could never know for sure.

“I know… I… like you two as well.”

“But you still miss something.”

Again that intensive stare. But this time, he stared back.

“You wouldn’t understand anyway.”

“Try me.”

“No, you really wouldn’t. Both of you handle me like I’m breakable. Even Sunny, who visibly has to hold himself back sometimes.”

Sideswipe looked back to the dark face bemused. What was his defect now…? Of course they were careful with him. They have seen abused torture victims before and never wanted the Seeker to relapse.

“We don’t want to hurt you… I don’t know what… what do you mean?”

“I know!” – Starscream’s voice was frustrated. – “You are afraid that I leave if you are too rough or something.”

“More or less… we don’t want you to have nightmares for one. To feel like abused again. To take advantage of your precarious position here. And a number of other things too, I’m sure Sunny could add some more.”

“And I actually appreciate them. To be honest, I never thought you two would be the ones trying to make me feel welcomed here…”

“You are trying to change the subject.”

“Ohh, okay.” – he sighed and that intense, red gaze left Sideswipe’s own blue one – “I miss rough.”

When Sideswipe just stared at him still bemused, he threw his helm backwards incredulously with a deep ex-vent, but elaborated.

“I have always preferred… kinky facing. Even before… you know. Dom-sub play, bondage and so on. I’m sure you don’t need much explanation with the renown you two have.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.” – Sideswipe closed his hanging jaw and tried to collect his thoughts. – “I can’t believe you are saying what you are saying. I mean we don’t know the details, but after what Megatron did to you, you… what, miss being tortured?”

“N-not tortured! Just… rough. Kinky. Like… Sunny there… he is the perfect Dom. Every time he looks at me with those stern, cerulean optics, I expect him to order me around and I want to obey his orders.”

“But isn’t that what you escaped from…? Wasn’t Megatron…?” – Sideswipe was thoroughly confused. Apparently their Seeker was even more complex than he’d thought.

“Megatron… he was different. He wanted to humiliate and destroy me, not order around. He is not a Dom, he is a paranoid sadist.” – he looked down, lost in thoughts – “I admit that I too mistook the two at first.”

“I’m not sure that I see the difference…”

“I do.” – Sunstreaker’s still recharge-heavy voice joined the conversation. – “Sides, a Dom cares for his Sub and protects him. Two things that I’m guessing Megatron wouldn’t know if they danced up to him in the barest protoform.”

“Exactly.” – Starscream looked satisfied that at least one of them was getting his meaning.

“Starscream… such things require a lot of trust, as you must know.” – Sunstreaker lifted his helm to look at the Seeker directly – “Which you don’t have in us, not fully, not yet. Certainly not enough for such plays.”

“Yeah… I mentioned it as an answer to Sides’ question, as to how to develop that trust.”

“I see…” – he really saw, Sideswipe marveled. They played a lot of interfacing games with him and with various partners, but this one wasn’t among them. Conveying that thought to his twin, he got the answer soon.

“Sides, it really only works with a fairly stable partner. We never truly had one so far. Besides it is rarely three-sided. One Dom, one Sub is how it works.”

“Look, I’m not saying that we should all jump into such practices overnight.” – Starscream’s voice was excited nonetheless. – “First you just both stop touching me like I’m a femme. I won’t break from a scratch or a harder thrust.”

Sideswipe was floored by the excitement in the Seeker’s voice. For as happy as he was with interfacing and appreciative with them being there with his nightmares, the red twin has never expected him to show such enthusiasm for rough and kinky facing. Frag, had he been tortured by an insane sadist, he’d probably never want anything that was even remotely similar again. But then, when was Starscream… simple?

“Let’s… let’s just put that aside for a little while yet.” – he suggested in a hesitant voice – “As you both said it requires trust, which we still need to build.”

“And let you wrap your processor around it, right?” – the blue servos grabbed him and playfully rolled over for the Seeker to be able to kiss deeply – “We will build the trust and see where it leads us, okay?”

He murmured something that might have been an okay, if not for the Seeker’s glossa that muffled his voice. But Starscream didn’t kiss him long before jumping onto his knee joints swearing. 

“Frag, I’m already late for my shift. Wheeljack will glower and Skyfire will be even colder than usual. And I must get a cube or I’ll drop offline halfway through the orn.” 

He was off the berth and out of the room in a klik, leaving the twins lying on the berth, looking worriedly at each other. 

“Is he serious?”

“I’m not sure.” Sunstreaker scowled – “And I bet he isn’t sure of it either.”

They lay quietly for a bit more, each contemplating what the Seeker told them.

“Will we… you know, help him in this?”

“We can start, as he told, by not being just so much careful.”

“And we’ll see the rest later. Okay, I can do that.” – Sideswipe leaned up on his elbows to watch his twin already up and seeking something – “Can you, Sunny?”

He got a scowl for the hated nickname, but Sunstreaker answered readily enough 

“Of course I can. If that is what he needs… yes. I do have ideas.”

“I was afraid you’d say that…”


	4. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real heavy part of the fic starts from this chapter, so mind the warnings! Bondage here.

_(POV Sunstreaker)_

They did take it slowly, allowing Starscream plenty of time to forget and opportunities to back off… had he so wished. But the Seeker did neither and as Sideswipe realized one early day cycle, groons after their talk, that the trust did grow, from both sides and facing was simply… stellar. They did nothing special so far, but he noticed that his twin didn’t hold himself back during facing… and Starscream didn’t mind it. The nightmares were all but gone, the silent hesitations, the sudden tremblings and the nervousness during foreplay as well. Starscream even became a bit more open towards the rest of the Autobots, making real efforts to get closer to them, to prove his trustworthiness and it was yielding some results too. 

Sideswipe was glad to see that lately, when they went to collect him from the labs, the general mood seemed a bit healthier there, especially between Skyfire and the Seeker. The shuttle apparently thawed out a bit – Sideswipe smirked at that particular expression, given Skyfire’s history – and was a tiny bit more accepting towards Starscream, who in turn stopped belittling his lab work for whatever reasons. They weren’t back to that easy friendship and closeness that Starscream told them to enjoy before the war, and he didn’t expect it any time soon, but the worst of the cold disapproval was gone and they could work together like colleagues. 

Even, as he heard, Megatron was seemingly giving up demanding to get back his former SIC every other orn – for which Optimus Prime was glad, as the enraged tyrant was mostly pestering him with the subject. There were no signs of retaliation planned against Starscream, that much Jazz was sure to search for whenever the spec ops team had a mission to the Nemesis. Controversially, it worried Starscream to no end, as he never stopped to believe that Megatron wanted to punish him for defecting. Sunstreaker agreed and both twins made sure to accompany Starscream on his flying excursions outside – and he agreed not to loose them from sight. 

But right now they were in the twins’ quarters, or rather Sunstreaker and Starscream was there, while Sideswipe enjoyed some brig time, thanks to his last prank on Prowl. He wouldn’t be let out for a few more joors and got a punishment shift afterwards, so they were alone and Sunstreaker used the rare quiet to catch up on his painting. It was going fine until the Seeker got off his own shift in the labs and started to annoy the golden twin with his restless stomping around in the room. 

“Why don’t you go flying a bit?” – Sunstreaker knew that his voice conveyed his annoyance and didn’t care.

“Because we agreed that I shouldn’t go alone?” – Starscream snapped back.

“What is it that got your thrusters in a knot?”

“Perceptor.”

“Perceptor?”

“Yes, the very same one. He nagged me about proper testing methods. As if I don’t know them!”

“I see.”

“Starscream stopped and glowered at the smugly calm frontliner behind the easel.

“No, you don’t. He doesn’t believe my experiment results because they are not what he expected and questions them on the grounds of the testing being substandard.”

“And?”

“And nothing!”

Sunstreaker nodded his helm to the side so he could see the Seeker. Taking in the tautly vibrating wings and the talons that tightened into fists every now and then, he concluded that it must be more serious than he perceived it. He lifted a questioning brow-plate at him and Starscream ex-vented furiously.

“He questioned my expertise!” – he hissed.

“I take it that it is serious for you science types?”

“Imagine someone questioning the way you do Jet Judo.”

“Ratchet does that all the time.”

“No, he doesn’t. He curses you for doing it, not for how you do.”

“True. Okay, I accept, it is serious and Perceptor is an aft. Will you stop stomping around now?”

“Why?”

“Because it disturbs the mood.”

“Why should you be calm when I’m not?”

Okay, that was a touch of the old Screamer, Sunstreaker decided. A sudden thought hit him…

“I should tie you up until you stop fretting…”

They both stopped talking and stared at the other thoughtfully for several breems. Sunstreaker had a very appealing mental image in his processor, superimposed onto the Seeker standing in front of him. Starscream looked at him amazed at first, but his look soon became shrewd.

“You mean that, don’t you.”

“I just imagined it… I wouldn’t be against painting you that way.” – Sunstreaker’s lipplates drew to a predatory smile.

“By ‘that way’ you mean…?”

“I mean you all tied up, just as I said.”

Starscream stared back guardedly, visibly weighing whether he’d let him do it. Sunstreaker waited patiently for him to decide, not influencing or convincing him in any way, just watching the Seeker frozen on the spot in the middle of the room… until a strong shudder ran along his frame, lifting his wings and he drew a deep invent.

“Okay then.”

Sunstreaker stood up slowly, ripping away the previous work from the frame it was in, slapping a new sheet on. His optics were riveted on the Seeker, mentally arranging him, the lightning, the room… and those thick, rough cables he appropriated just a few orns ago, on a sudden whim from the stores. He led Starscream to the berth, sitting him down straight, strict, like a youngling at his first class. Yanking the cable out from the chest of his supplies he looked at the Seeker questioningly once again.

“Are you sure?”

The nod wasn’t as sure as he would’ve liked, but it was assent. He stopped with the cable and sit down by him, caressing the wing closer to him. Starscream was taut and silent but his field signaled eagerness too.

“Don’t say yes if you don’t want it. Nothing, absolutely nothing compels you to do it, if you don’t want to.”

“I do want it.”

“All right then. Pick your word. I’ll ignore anything else you say.”

“Christmas.” – it came so fast that he must have thought it up well before.

Sunstreaker’s lip twitched a bit but he managed to contain the laugh. It was ridiculous really, that human word, but as safe words went, it was okay. He continued to pet the white wing with one servo, while the other started to twist the cable around warm plating. Decorative rounds at first, arranged to look good in the lightning he imagined for the setting, lining up the twists of the cable and cross it with itself in a pattern, tight so it wouldn’t fall off… Starscream sat calmly, unmoving like a statue, probably locked his joints deliberately. His vents were calm, quiet, even hitching only slightly when Sunstreaker’s servo caressed his wing or dipped into the vent slats.

His plating was warm, aroused a little but not uncomfortably so and the light touches kept it on a steady level. Sunstreaker moved down, the cable twisting around arms and frame, the knots pulled just a bit tighter, became functional, restraining his arms, leaving the blue of the servos to show through the spiraling black of the cable. He kneeled in front of the Seeker, the cable ends put aside momentarily as he teased the red panel between the spread, silvery white legs. Starscream squirmed almost imperceptibly, but his vents went up a notch and his panel soon snapped open.

His mouth opened ever so slightly and the dark helm leaned backwards, optics half shuttered already. Sunstreaker twisted the black cable to frame the glistening interface array in even more intricate knots his digits just touching the edges slightly, teasingly. It was almost too much, he thought, no need to use the cable on his legs as well. He spread them instead a bit more to give a better view of the restrained, bondaged frame and stepped back to see the aroused, hazy faceplates. Turning him slightly to the side, he arranged the lightning too and stood in front of the bound Starscream. 

His arousal abated somewhat and consciousness returned to his optics, but he didn’t change the position Sunstreaker arranged him into. The golden twin leaned over him and slowly, deeply, thoroughly kissed him – he wanted that hazy and sensual look to go with the bound figure, the stark black of the cable twisting around his bright, brilliant colours and the straight, strict, schoolgirly look. 

“Don’t move.” – he growled in a deep, threatening tone. –“Don’t speak.”

He moved back a few steps, his artist’s optics taking in the scene and finding it as near to perfection as he could make it. Wasting no time he sat down at the sheet and started to paint straight to it. He needed no sketch, no study for this. He painted like a mech possessed and only stopped a full joor later to make Starscream drink a cube of energon, kissing him into hazy oblivion again and rousing his charge with deft touches. Then it was back to the painting.

Sideswipe was still away, although feeling his twin’s excited determination and leaving him to his creative drive, when Sunstreaker put down the brush at last. Staring at the sheet for a few breems, he could find no part that needed more work, so he got up and went to check on the Seeker. As he sat at the berth, he felt his field flickering tiredly, the wings starting to droop a bit. He was still quiet though, in itself an unusual occurrence from him. Sunstreaker caressed the tired wings carefully, turning the dark helm towards him with one digit under his jaw. He kissed the Seeker deeply, dominating his glossa, plundering his mouth, nipping slightly his lipplates until he shook down the frozen silence and moaned into his mouth. 

Black servos slid down on the wings, over the shoulders, down to the arms with the black cable restraining them. He pushed the Seeker backwards, to lie on the berth and slid down more, dipping into the seams where his servos went. Caressing the hips and the pert, red aft he leaned down to lick lightly over his straining spike, stopping it from extending by his mouth. Starscream keened as he lay unmoving, the teasing probably too much for him after the long session and Sunstreaker circled his valve with his glossa, dipping in for a quick taste. The red hips bucked up as much as they could in the still tight embrace of the black cable. 

Sunstreaker laughed lowly into the valve, the vibrations tormenting Starscream in the best way, making him hot and squirmy. The first drop of lubricant oozed out of the slightly clenching valve and he lapped it up like the finest high-grade. His twin’s annoyed arousal leaked into the valve, Sideswipe could hardly contain himself during the always boring monitor duty and the sensations that Sunstreaker let him feel tormented him too. It worked as a feedback, fuelling the golden twin’s own arousal as he continued to lick and dip his glossa into Starscream’s valve, while his servos roamed on his plating, playing here and there with the thick cables.

Starscream’s moans strengthened in volume and acquired a slight frustrated tinge too. He was completely unable to move with the cable still restraining his upper frame and Sunstreaker with his own body keeping his lower half pinned to the berth. He could only buck up some to convey his need for more than the teasing that the golden frontliner was giving him. Sunstreaker continued with his glossa working on the Seeker’s valve for a few more kliks before withdrawing it and kneeling up between the spread legs, still kept in place by strong, battle-hardened servos.

His cerulean optics smoldered from his own rising charge and he smiled at Starscream with a predatory grin. His digits tightened on the white tights and without warning his spike thrust deep into the slick, hot valve, tearing a high keen from the Seeker. Sunstreaker pulled out almost completely and slammed back into the tight, spasming valve forcefully, hitting all the nodes on the way. He kept up a strong, almost vicious tempo of thrusting, sure that his earlier ministrations prepared the valve so it would not be injured. It didn’t take long for Starscream to tide over and overload with a shrill screech. 

Sunstreaker felt the impossibly tightness of the overloading valve, the spasming embrace of the calipers and the taut, vibrating cables in the Seeker’s frame but he wasn’t ready yet. He continued to ram his spike into the hot, wet tightness of the valve, while his servos scratched plating, clawed into seams and brought Starscream back up to par again. He even drew the Seeker’s spike out and fondled it roughly, pumping it in tandem with his slamming into his valve. 

Starscream barely came back online after the overload when he felt plunged headfirst into pleasure again. The golden twin was rough, nearly violent, like the way most Autobots and Decepticons knew him from the battlefield. His digits scratched into paint, the grip on his hips left dents in the lighter, thinner metal. His pelvic plate clanged hard on Starscream’s, drawing sparks at the contact, forcing his spike deeper and deeper with every thrust, hitting his ceiling node continuously. His field dominated the Seeker too, enveloping the pleasantly hazy, fogged field of the Seeker with his determined lust and indomitable will. 

They peaked together this time, golden spike slamming home for the last time as his back arched and Sunstreaker roared his ecstasy into the air, overwhelming Starscream’s higher shrill shout of his name as he came too. Slumping forward, Sunstreaker tried to hold himself up with a shaking servo for a klik only before he lay onto the warm plating and lost the world for a few nanokliks. He felt utterly spent, nearly strutless, like he had gone through an orn’s worth of facing instead of just one. He could only imagine in what condition Starscream was… but judging by the silence and the slight vibrations of a rebooting system, he was fully knocked offline.

Sunstreaker collected himself with some difficulty and snarled inwardly at his leering twin in their bond. Starscream just opened an optic and he was slowly coming back into the land of the online. He looked just the slightest bit uncomfortable, but his sated, satisfied field dispelled Sunstreaker’s worry. He started to remove the cable slowly, caressing the warm, trembling plating and limbs as they were freed from the restraints. He took his time, untying every knot and twist with a meticulous attention, ignoring the Seeker who started to squirm slightly as he felt them gone. 

“You looked gorgeous.” – he said between one knot and another. – “And you behaved well.”

His answer at first was just a sinuous writhing of the supple frame, half still in the embrace of the black cable.

“Felt good.”

“Are you all right?” – he looked and by his field felt so, but Sunstreaker wanted to make sure. 

“Just stellar…” – Starscream smirked at his worry, lifting a freed servo and rotating it to get rid of the effects of the long restraint. – “A bit stiff only.”

“Sides will finish soon and we can take you to fly.”

Apparently that was a wrong thing to say, because Starscream’s expression froze for a klik before his optics flashed angrily and his wings rose threateningly.

“I’m not your **pet** , to be taken for a walk!” – snarled while jumping on his thrusters. – “Don’t mistake a one-time permission with a willing slave!”

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean it that way…”

But Starscream was out of the door, before Sunstreaker could finish the sentence. Slag, Sunstreaker thought, angry at himself, _slag, slag_ and _slag_ again. He was careless and now he might have thrown all the achieved trust into the winds…


	5. Trust reloaded

Sideswipe felt the pleasure leaking into their bond and he hated the boring monitor shift more than ever. He wanted to be there, to play with Starscream who was simply amazing in the berth and since their little talk, neither of them had to hold back and be extra careful with him. It was very close to their dream, a perfect partner who completed them so much that though they never termed it as love, especially Sunstreaker… but what was close to it none the less. Sideswipe dared to admit to himself that he even thought of a permanent partnership with the Seeker, with bonding and all… provided that both his twin and Starscream agreed of course. 

So he was in a hurry to get back to his partners as soon as his shift ended, leaving the babbling Red Alert in the middle of a sentence he hardly paid any attention anyway. He had to stop though in the middle of the rec room as overload tore through Sunny and blossomed fully into their bond. Sideswipe whimpered a little at the intensity and had to grab the energon dispenser for balance, dropping the cube in his servo carelessly onto a table beside it.

“Sides, are ya all right?” – Jazz’s worried voice intruded into the haze on his processor.

“R-right… just… intense.” – Primus, he hoped Jazz wouldn’t want details much.

“Sunny, ehh?” – the TIC smirked knowingly, more than familiar with the twin bond by this time – “Who did he grab this time, if it isn’t a secret?”

“Starscream.”

The scowl was a rare sight on the seemingly always easygoing saboteur’s faceplates. He knew that even Jazz would react negatively. It didn’t matter. They liked the Seeker and knew that he wasn’t going to betray them and every mech who thought otherwise could do them a favor and get lost. Although he wouldn’t have thought that Jazz would be one honestly. Sideswipe collected himself quickly, downed the energon and set off for their quarters, leaving Jazz to his disapproval, not bothering to acknowledge it.

He just arrived to their room when the door swooshed open and Starscream nearly run through it in his hurry. Sideswipe had only a nanoklik to observe him before he found himself with an armful of Seeker. Wings high and trembling, optics suspiciously bright and definitely not form the overload breems ago, faceplates scrunched up in an expression of anger, fear and frustration. _Uhh-ohh_. Something happened while Jazz took his attention away. Starscream, after the initial surprise tried to free himself from the red arms and probably run away. 

“Let me go!” – his voice was shrill and insulted.

“No, wait! What’s going on? Why are you upset, Star?”

Sunstreaker came through the door, trying to calm the enraged Seeker. He conveyed the scene to his twin through their link, so Sideswipe could understand it without lengthy explanations aloud.

“Look, I didn’t mean it that way! I meant only that we agreed to go out together only!”

“It was slagging insulting!”

“I know. I’m sorry.” – Sunstreaker actually looked contrite. – “It was wrong to say.”

“Let’s not give any more of a performance to the watchers… can we talk it over inside?” – Sideswipe pointedly looked to the end of the corridor, where two bots stood, not even hiding the fact that they were eavesdropping.

“Right…” 

Together they managed to convince Starscream to come back with them to their quarters with the minimal amount of fuss.

“Wow…” – Sideswipe saw the new painting the first thing once inside. – “That’s slagging amazing… Star, you are beautiful even like… like that.”

Satisfied vanity and righteous anger warred for dominance on the Seeker’s dark faceplates but Sideswipe saw his wings lower and relax slightly, meaning that he was mellowing out. He waved Sunstreaker behind Starscream, advising him in the bond to shut up while he worked on fully placating their lover. 

“You know that we don’t see you like that, right? You are beautiful, intelligent and the best damn flier around, so how could we?” – he caressed a wing gently with calming motions – “We know that you stay with us because you want to. We’d never force you anything – unless you want it. You know, like you told last time.”

Starscream couldn’t help but drink in Sideswipe’s earnestly admiring, praising words. He read the red twin’s field and felt that it was honest, that he truly meant what he said. His wings were slowly stroked from behind too as golden servos joined to the black ones and Sunstreaker contrite voice murmured into his audials.

“I’m sorry, Star. Truly. It was thoughtless and I didn’t mean it that way.”

“You’d better not!” – he snarled back but made no move to free his wing from the golden servos. – “And I really want to go out and fly. I’m still stiff from… that.”

“Of course. Let’s grab some energon and we’re good to go.”

Starscream of course wouldn’t have been himself if he didn’t give them the run for their credits this time. In his jet form he was faster than either Lamborghinis and this joor he didn’t hesitate to rub this into their sensors. Mostly they saw his contrail as it twisted and spun in his wake and occasionally a flash of the colourful frame among the clouds, swooping down onto them taunting lightly. But the flight did wonders to his mood and by the time they got back to the Ark, the twins covered in dust, Starscream shining with smug satisfaction, he was back to his normal self. Or as normal as he got these orns.

When the Seeker got back from his shift in the labs, he went straight to the twins’ quarters. That he hardly recharged in his own was noted by many, even as most of those mechs still viewed him with barely concealed suspicion. The general accord was that he was better off with the twins than alone, as it gave him fewer opportunities for turning a traitor or hatching plans. Starscream knew what they were thinking about him but he hardly cared. As far as no mech could accuse him with anything solid and proven, he could take the mistrust and the glares – and not even the angriest minibots would dare to go up against the twins and Starscream, be it a prank or outright confrontation. 

Sideswipe knew all about it. As the most social of the three, he was usually approached by other mechs for much what they thought to be a problem; from Prowl and Red Alert asking, nearly interrogating him if he saw Starscream planning or preparing anything suspicious; through Tracks or Blaster asking disbelievingly time and time again what favors the Seeker asked for ‘facing with them; till the sneaky, underhanded questions of the spec ops mechs, trying to make him spit whatever the jet was doing for real. He felt sorry for Starscream to have to put up with all that slag and still remain loyal. 

When Starscream came back to their shared rooms, the twins were lazing around, not wanting to start anything serious without him having a say. Sunstreaker knew what he wanted to try, but he would never come out with it first. So it came as a complete surprise when Starscream sauntered in and without any preamble dropped a pair of stasis cuffs into the golden twins lap, standing in front of him with an expectant look, blue arm crossed over his cockpit and a slight smirk. 

“Are you sure, Star?” – Sunstreaker asked and Sideswipe’s quiet warning echoed through the bond. 

“Word is still Christmas. Idiot human custom if you ask me.”

Sunstreaker’s lipplates twitched in a half smile but his voice was strong, dominantly ordering.

“On your knees then. But yes, it is fairly stupid.”

“But funny.” – Sideswipe slipped behind the Seeker and caught the cuffs thrown at him with one servo. Arranging the blue servos behind his back, he put them on and turned the strength to low, to give him some measure of movement. Sunstreaker buckled on the metallomesh collar on the supple neck, fondling the sensitive cables there in the meanwhile.

“Funny, because they can’t decide whether it is religion, if so, which one, if not, what it is then besides buying innumerable useless things with an obsession…”

“… that rivaled only your one to overthrow Megatron, yes, yes, we know.” – Sideswipe waved his servo and pushed Starscream into his brother’s lap.

Sunstreaker laid the bound Starscream on his knee joints, struggling a bit to arrange the wings so he would fit and asked him playfully.

“Now, have you been a bad little Seeker this orn?”

“If making Wheeljack explode literally AND figuratively is bad, then yes, I guess so.”

Sunstreaker’s servo came down on the red aft, the small paddle in it clanging loudly at the impact. It was just the first hit with hardly any strength behind it. The other servo held the collar with a tight grip, forcing his helm downwards.

“Bad little Seekers deserve punishments, right, Sides?”

Sideswipe sat by the blue pedes, taking the thrusters into his lap, restraining them and he dipped a digit into one. Lightly circling it on the rim of the strong, warm metal he felt Starscream tremble as pleasure interacted with the slight sting of the blow. Sunstreaker dropped another hit onto his aft, a stronger one this time, timing them with Sideswipe’s ministrations and an occasional pinch to the wingtips. The clangs that echoed in the room were soon mixed with heavy venting and small, bitten off moans and whimpers. Sideswipe suddenly pinched the thruster hard, eliciting a strong yelp. It must have hurt more on the already sensitized metal.

They kept delivering mixed sensations to his frame, but after a while the pain must have overwhelmed the pleasure, for the moans were more or less replaced by whimpers and small yelps. Starscream started to squirm strongly in their lap, arousal and agony both growing in him. His field fluctuated and flared around them, asking for more of both. His aft panel grew hot from the spanking and the interface one in need and soon lubricant started to seep through the seams.

“You like this, don’t you.”

“Mmmhmmm…”

Sunstreaker passed the paddle to his twin and pushed Starscream’s legs off the berth, turning him so that his helm lay between his spread tights and he knelt in front of him. Holding the dark helm and the collar with strong servos, his panel snapped open and his spike emerged fully erect, showing just how much he, too enjoyed the actions. Starscream’s helm bobbed down without being prompted or forced and his glossa slowly, sensuously licked around the head. Sunstreaker threw his helm back with a deep growl and nudged the Seeker’s head down. Starscream obediently swallowed the spike fully, eliciting another, throaty moan from the golden frontliner.

Sideswipe watched them for a few kliks, becoming aroused by the sight of Star pleasuring Sunny and the feel of it coming through their link. After a while he got up though and moving behind Starscream he decided to try out the paddle. The first hits were just weak ones, not wanting to hurt really, but as he saw the Seeker’s frame wriggling and undulating in pleasure he made them stronger, enjoying the sight of the red aft wriggling in the air. The occasional whimpers that followed a harsher blow and vibrated around the thick spike in his mouth caused Sunstreaker to almost explode. 

“Y-yes, that’s it… good little Seeker…”

He moaned deeply, his servos tightening on the dark helm pulling it down with an inexorable force, thrusting his spike deep into the intake. Sideswipe saw that he was close, the golden hips twitched and bucked under Starscream’s deft ministrations. He hit the red aft with a particularly sharp sting and Starscream automatically scraped his denta on the golden spike. Sunstreaker shouted, the sudden, pain-tinged sensation throwing him over the edge, overload taking him as he burst and shot his transfluid deep into the hot, wet mouth. His servos clamped onto the helm, keeping him in place and the Seeker didn’t protest; swallowing the transfluid easily, his glossa kept licking the spike until Sunstreaker came to his senses and let his helm rise.

“That was fragging hot!” – Sideswipe himself felt ready to burst and the paddle just wasn’t his thing to get off on. He threw it to the ground and roughly edged the Seeker’s interface panel with impatient digits. It didn’t need a lot of petting before snapping open, his valve positively dripping with lubricant, his spike extending automatically. Sideswipe hasn’t stopped to prepare and plunged into the ready valve with a strong, almost brutal thrust. Starscream lifted is helm with a shrill keen, his field teetering at the edge of pain and pleasure again, but he was ready for the penetration and after the first klik of discomfort it was wonderful to be filled and stretched by the thick, red spike. 

Spreading his legs a bit more he arched his backstruts, offering the red twin a better angle for fragging while dropping his helm onto the messy lap of Sunstreaker who just came back online fully and petted the helm satisfied. He would have loved the Seeker’s servos on himself, but the sight of them being restrained nearly made up for that. Sideswipe was ramming into the slick valve with a ferocity he rarely displayed outside the battlefield, their plating throwing actual sparks as they met and clanged, pushing the Seeker’s helm into his interface array where his glossa mindlessly lapped at the mixed, cooling fluids.

They were moaning and growling in mindless ecstasy in a mere breem, Sideswipe’s servos clamping at the red hips with enough strength to leave dents, Starscream’s tightening into fists in the embrace of the cuffs, his wings quivering tautly. With one final, vicious thrust, the frontliner slammed into the red aft, knocking at the ceiling node roughly and roaring as he came to in the slick, scorching hot valve. His overload caused Starscream to climax as well, his valve caliper tightening around the spike that shot him full of transfluid. Sideswipe felt strutless as he slumped forward, onto the back and wings of Starscream, completely unable to hold himself up.

“Geroffme, Sides…” – he growled, helm and faceplates still planted on Sunstreaker’s lap, in fact the last thrust pressing them directly into his interface array… and the vibrations made the golden spike extend again. His wings complained at the weight on them and his knees didn’t feel much stronger than the red twin’s. But the rising spike in front of his optics kidnapped his attention again. Incredulous red optics flickered upwards, to Sunstreaker’s smirking ones.

“Again…?”

“Not your call this joor.” – Sunstreaker’s voice was fully dominant now, not brooking arguments but his optics glanced back to him questioningly – “Unless you call it Christmas of course.”

Starscream shook his helm. He was sated at the moment, although his aft ached and tingled still from the spanking, but he wasn’t against more play. Licking slowly the spike’s length, cleaning it from his own oral lubricants and the transfluid marks, he indicated his willingness to continue. Sunstreaker growled appraisingly but pulled Starscream up to his pedes, together with the slowly recovering Sideswipe. 

“Are we continuing…? Great…” – he mumbled as he changed place with his twin, lying on his back at the edge of the berth, legs dangling down. Sunstreaker placed the Seeker on top of him, nudging his helm to the spent red spike and Starscream obediently started to lick it clean and tease into extending again.

“Primus…!” – Sideswipe moaned as he was hardened in kliks again – “You do know how to use that glossa…”

A conceited smirk was his only answer while Sunstreaker leaned over them and stroked the warm, trembling wings gently at first, but soon curling his digits into talons and the strokes started to scratch the sensitive surfaces. He drew a digit upwards and dipped into the aileron, bending the thin metal upwards until he heard a whimper and the wing shook with a shudder that definitely wasn’t pleasured. But Starscream, despite of the pain that this time wasn’t balanced by pleasure didn’t stop in his task and Sideswipe got the first inkling of what the Seeker truly meant by pain-play. His glossa trembled on his spike but the licks were still arousing and he didn’t hesitate to take him in deep. 

Sideswipe’s helm thudded back to the berth, his hips bucked up, thrusting his spike into the obedient, wet and welcoming mouth. With a hazy optics he saw Sunstreaker lower his helm onto the white expanse of the wings and first soothingly lick the marks that his digits left, then nibble the edges with more and more forceful bites, some even drawing drops of energon welling up. His servos were clamped onto the wingtips to stop them from moving away and to deliver a sharp pinch to them in tandem with the bites. Starscream’s intake was still engulfing and massaging his spike but Sideswipe felt the jerking that went further than the previous, slight trembling and sensed the distinctly pained tinge in the Seeker’s field. 

He started to become anxious, but when Sunstreaker pulled the dark helm upward by the back of the collar, he heard no safe-word emerging and Starscream was lucid enough to say it if he so wished. As he didn’t – and Sideswipe knew that his brother gave him this pause for that – Sunstreaker pulled him fully up and roughly thrust into the still slick, messy valve from behind. The red frontliner reached up to prop the Seeker above him and scratched the cockpit glass roughly, pinching the clasps. He watched his brother slam into the valve a few times before pulling them both down, onto his spike, sending to him what he wanted through the bond.

Sunstreaker slowed down and with some wriggling they arranged Starscream between them, the golden spike still deeply embedded in his valve and the black one’s head just beside it, nudging the taut rim. The red optics widened as Starscream understood their intent and he spread his legs even further, relaxing his calipers that so far clamped onto Sunstreaker’s spike wantonly. He moaned low as the golden twin forced him down on Sideswipe’s slightly thinner member and it pushed slowly past the impossibly tight rim, the red mech feeling both his twin’s arousal and Starscream’s tightness around it. 

It was almost too tight and he growled frag! and pushed up with all his strength, forcing himself into the valve against the constricting walls, stretching his calipers almost obscenely wide. Starscream’s moan turned into high-pitched keening and he threw his helm back, leaning onto the still Sunstreaker. With a final snarl, he seated himself in fully and paused, venting hot air in gasps, enjoying the incredible tight, wet, hot sensations, the involuntary twitches of the valve walls that got transmitted into his spike. From Sunstreaker the exact same feeling came through the bond and they nearly lost it between their combined charge. Between them Starscream’s field flared and twanged in bouts of pain and echoes of pleasure.

But Sunstreaker ex-vented a few times, nibbled and roughly bit Starscream’s neck cords and slowly pulled out a bit. Their bond helped to synchronize their movements and soon they picked up the tempo, thrusting counterpoint into the valve that accommodated them a bit better by this time, but was still awfully tight, spasming around them. Starscream was incoherent between them, and if his field was torn before between pain and pleasure, then now it was the same – only tenfold. Moans, keens, whimpers and short, little screams fell from his lips continuously but without any coherence. He couldn’t move at all as he was, restrained and sandwiched between the two toughliners but he didn’t even want to – the thick spikes slamming into him, hitting the deepest nodes nearly continuously, the feeling of being filled completely while stretched obscenely wide, the sharp, little tinges from Sunstreaker’s bites threw him into a blazing overload in a mere few kliks.

Shrill screech sweeping up, into a glass-breaking scream, his valve tightened on their spikes, making them almost unable to move. But again the twin bond was stronger and they slammed home together once, twice more, overloading the same time, pumping his valve full of transfluid that splattered out between them, onto them and decorating the berth. Sideswipe felt hazily that their orgasm threw the Seeker back into another, second one, which also knocked him out completely and let his frame slump limp between their bodies. Sunstreaker wasn’t faring that much better, holding him up with a strongly trembling servo, looking ready to tumble straight into recharge.

“Wow…” – he ex-vented hot air that hasn’t even started to cool his systems down – “that was… intense.”

He hissed as he pulled out as the tightness of the valve has abraded his spike somewhat, Sunstreaker doing the same before laying down the limp form gently beside him and taking the handcuffs off. He meant to check whether they caused any injury to him, but he felt his strength sapped and barely had time to turn his side and draw the Seeker close to him before falling into recharge. Sunstreaker embraced Starscream from the other side, the two frontliners holding the Seeker between them close, cuddling and snuggling him as they, too fell into recharge.


	6. Trust broken

The Decepticon alarm started a well-organized chaos within the Ark, the late time in the dark cycle just making mechs more cranky and irritated than usual. Late battles inevitably meant night fighting, lost recharge and chaotic shifts for orns afterwards, until Prowl managed to juggle them back to normalcy. It wasn’t different this time either; the scientists secured their experiments and went to take over the defenses of the Ark in the absence of the frontliners – except Starscream, still not trusted enough to take part in that, and therefore left in the midst of the suspicious glances to stay in his quarters while the alarm lasted. 

He used the extra time for some reading, catching up on the collected datapads that, since his interface-life with the twins went from mere good straight into astronomical, collected the everpresent dust only while they enjoyed themselves. Starscream was surprised when, after many joors of reading the Autobots still hasn’t returned and he started to get an anxious feeling for the twins. It was stupid, he exhorted himself, they were probably just involved in the usual, sappy help to the humans, cleaning up after the battle and so on. There was no reason for him to get worried for them.

It wasn’t as though he felt something towards them, he mused while rolling over to his other side, absently flicking his wing out of the way for the move. None. They were just lovers. Long term lovers, fine, he admitted as much, and quite exclusive too, but still. None of those sappy, soft-sparked Autobot feelings. He was simply worried, because he missed his interface partners and became bored in their absence. _Yes, only that_ , he affirmed inwardly. Nothing more. They only satisfied his lust and wants and he did the same for them. All right, he started to trust them too. It was inevitable not to mention required for their more… not-quite-Autobot-like plays and trysts that neither of them mentioned ever outside their shared quarters.

And if Sideswipe sometimes looked at him like he wanted to say something deeper that he quickly tucked away… and if sometimes Sunstreaker’s smoldering optics got so intense that he was hard put to call it simple trysts any more… then it still wasn’t more than being lovers. To even just think of it being anything more was wrong on many levels. They were still Autobots while he was still not fully accepted as one. They were … and Starscream frowned deeply as he found no other objection to the idea. Still, he forcibly reminded himself, they can’t feel anything more than liking for him. These were _the twins_ , for frag’s sake. They had each other for a bondmate.

Fortunately at that point he heard the clanking, banging, talking noises that signaled that the Autobots, including hopefully two frontliners more or less whole, have returned and he could tuck the whole thread of thoughts way back into his processor, where it hopefully disappeared. Starscream got up, threw the datapad among its discarded fellows on the ground – he supposed that he should clean up sometimes – and was out of the door in a klik, heading towards the med-bay. Ratchet wouldn’t let him in of course, but the billboard beside the double doors listed both twins among the light wounded, so they would be some time yet before getting fixed and released.

Calmer now – but irritated at being so worried before – Starscream continued to the twins’ quarters, to which he long had the entry code, to wait them there. Curling up on the spare berth, he read the datapad he brought with him, halfway into recharge by the time they arrived, so late that it was almost early. But after the battle they would not have a shift so soon, so they had time to rest and… for anything else.

“How did it go?” – he asked Sideswipe, while Sunstreaker disappeared straight into the wash-racks to get rid of the battlefield grime as he always did with barely a grunt towards the Seeker. He wasn’t worried about it as a clean Sunstreaker has always been a better tempered Sunstreaker; besides he did that after every battle. 

“Just some stray shots for both of us.” – the red twin waved an unconcerned servo in the air, a stick-like something falling out of his subspace – “Ooops. Fragging cassettes were trying to get us for some reason – not that they can shoot all that well. Ratchet didn’t even bother to deal with them so First Aid patched us up and it still didn’t take a breem.”

“Good. You got them for it, I hope?” – Starscream hasn’t liked Soundwave’s little pests even when he was a Decepticon still and his red optics flared with that vicious distaste he felt. 

“I think Frenzy have to have a lot more fixing done to him than us both.”

Sideswipe grinned back from where he was lazing, nodding thankfully for the cube of regular mid-grade energon that Starscream passed to him. He drank a mouthful but grimaced afterwards, set it down and pulled out a small box instead from under his berth. Winking to the curious Seeker, he theatrically, slowly lifted the lid of the box, revealing the contents. The cubes that filled the box were smaller than regular energon, but their brilliant glow nearly painted the room violet. Starscream whistled.

“New batch? Looks promising.”

“Experimental one. Don’t worry, I’ve tasted it already and no ill effects. Though packs a kick like an enraged Megatron and that might be called ill effect by some…”

They laughed at the joke and Sideswipe passed a cube to Starscream, left one out for Sunstreaker and sipped his own with obvious enjoyment. Starscream tasted his, and smacked his lips at the first taste; but not liking high grade much, he stopped after a small gulp. It was a good idea, he decided a nanoklik later; the stuff was… downright vicious going down, he could find no other description to it. It burned all the way down his intake like it was radioactive instead of just normal high-grade and when it arrived it felt like exploding in his tank. 

“Whoa…” – he croaked when he could speak next, after a good full breem, his optics still blinking the excess cleaning fluid that it drew – “I think I’ll pass it. Feels like Wheeljack had a servo in it too.”

“You wound me Star…!” – Sideswipe continued to be theatrical, acting like a human… _what was the term… diva_ when killed on the stage and acting all exaggerated and whiny… but of course he not only downed his own cube but the one Starscream left as well. Even for a practiced drunk the stuff must have acted rather strongly…

Sunstreaker came back from the wash racks, all in his gleaming golden glory, every last scratch carefully buffed out, every seam clean and sparkling… nearly literally. Starscream blinked slowly then cursed Sideswipe, whose cackling laugh became a roaring background noise. He shook his helm to get rid of the hallucinations. Sunstreaker looked at him with a questioning glance before noticing the cubes.

“I see…” – he murmured picking up his cube and smelling it appreciatingly. – “By the look of him, it was a whooping success.”

“Slagging first grade rocket-fuel seasoned with radioactive goo…”

“You can still form sentences, it must not be that bad.” – he smirked back to Starscream and downed the cube in one daring gulp. Then tried really hard not to spew it everywhere. 

Starscream smirked in a superior, _Itoldyouso way_ , while Sideswipe chuckled from where he lay sprawled on his berth, very much unable to move anywhere at the moment.

“I only drank a small gulp.” – he told the still spluttering frontliner. – “I guess it is good, there will be someone holding your helms while you purge.”

Sunstreaker managed to swallow the high-grade although it seriously burned his intake and he meant **BURNED** -burned. He had to sit down. Beat Sides. Purge. In that order. Finding his berth with difficulties, ignoring the Seeker’s cackling, he shook his helm and sat. Heavily. Beside the berth. Slagging Seeker, why did he have to laugh so loud? The edges of the room wavered and twisted along with the noises. Fortunately the worst of the effect cleared up after a breem and Sunstreaker suddenly felt hot. Very hot and he knew what he wanted to do. Starscream looked back with a wide-opticked, sultry stare that should have been made illegal and made his fans kick in with a vengeance. He still didn’t trust his legs to hold him up.

“Come ‘ere.”

Starscream stood up from the lazy posture and sauntered over to his berth, straddling the nearly insensate golden twin’s legs. 

“Whatever my master dictates…” – he drawled with a sultry voice, undulating his frame sensuously, rubbing their panels together. 

Sunstreaker collected his wits about him. It helped that the pit-damned high grade’s worst effect was disappearing, leaving him overcharged and hot, but in a better command of his faculties than a breem earlier. So he hooked a golden leg to the Seeker’s blue one and rolled them over to trap him underneath. Starscream’s vents puffed out air with a surprised _ooof_ as his wings were carelessly batted away, but he lay under the golden twin meekly enough. Sideswipe’s cackle from behind signaled that he too came to his senses somewhat. 

Sunstreaker slowly lowered his helm and his lips took the dark ones in, glossa demanding entrance. He didn’t wait to permission though, plunging into the Seeker’s mouth, his denta nipping the dark lipplates, muffling any sound he might have wanted to make in a deep, aggressive and dominating kiss. Thoroughly mapping the hot mouth, he felt the lingering taste of the high grade as his glossa captured the Seeker’s and he sucked on it. He ended the kiss with an almost brutal bite that caused Starscream a muffled yelp as he licked energon that welled up at his denta. His optics flashed nearly violet as he lifted his helm and his processor became muddled for a klik. 

The golden twin rose up, capturing the blue servos in one of his own, the other jerking the cuffs out from their place. Snapping them onto one wrist, he lifted the arm and crossed the cuffs behind a strategically placed strong rod, closing it on the other servo. He dipped down for another kiss, licking the energon from the slight wound and moving down onto the neck cords, peppering small kisses and stinging bites there too. Sliding down on the Seeker’s body, he scraped his denta along the cockpit, grinding them just a bit too strongly onto the sensitive glass. Biting the clasps that locked the cockpit, he heard the hiss from Starscream – those were really sensitive.

Starscream squirmed a bit in discomfort but his denta has already left and he knelt up between his legs. Slowly stroking along the warm metal he grabbed the ankles with a vicious grip before cuffing them to the sides of the bed, spreading him wide and taut among the restraints. Sideswipe appeared over his helm to capture his mouth in another fervent, dominating kiss, his optics dark violet like his brother’s with lust. When he lifted away from the dark lips, swollen with bites, open with the kiss, his black servos almost gently tucked a gag into it, the ends of the piece magnetized to his plating. Momentary, spiking fear was dispelled as his servo gently caressed his face and he nuzzled into the nice touch, despite of the slight discomfort of the gag. 

Sunstreaker lavished long, slow licks on the deliciously hot, red interface panel and his servos delved into the hip seams, fondling sensitive wires and plucking on taut cables. The panel snapped open and Starscream’s spike rose immediately, his valve dripping with lubricant. He tried to squirm again, but discovered just how tight the stasis cuffs were set this time. Sounds were off too, only a muffled moan could be heard through the thick gag. Sunstreaker slipped a small ring onto the proudly standing red spike, tightened it on the base, eliciting a muffled protest from the Seeker. Ignoring the whimper, he licked the spike teasingly slow.

His twin kneeled over the Seeker’s helm on the berth, strong red tights surrounding it and holding him tight in place, squashing his arms underneath. He rubbed his hot pelvic plate on the dark helm, enjoying the flash of fear in those exotic red optics. The stick-like object that he dropped earlier was in his servo again and he held it in front of his face for a better view. Starscream’s optics widened as he recognized it and he gulped suddenly behind the gag.

“My little Seeker…” – Sideswipe drawl was still clearly quite overcharged – “I found this… interesanting… interesting… toy on the battlefield today. I think… I think Vortex dropped it. Isn’t it a fascigna… fascinating piece?”

He touched the end to the upper arm, just where the connectors for the removed null rays were set into the metal plates and pressed the initiating button. Sparks flew and Starscream jerked under the effect of the shockstick. It was set to low, in fact to the lowest of its settings. He knew this particular piece, saw it many times in Vortex’s servos… felt it on his plating too and not on this setting either. He could take this much now. Sideswipe leaned forward to lick the slight mark that was left on the plating. 

“Mmmmfmmm…!”

“What was that, little Seeker?”

“I haven’t heard you well.” – Sunstreaker hissed from somewhere his pelvic region. - “Suppose Sides that we have caught a Decepticon spy for ourselves. Shall we make him talk?”

Starscream was still nervous, but in a way relieved a bit too – if it was a play, _that play_ , then he was all for it. He was nervous and apprehensive while he didn’t know what was going on, as the twins started the whole thing quite seriously, but calmed down considerably hearing them sound all normal and playful. He wriggled and tried to speak through the gag but of course the latter effort was useless. He was ignored anyway, as Sideswipe answered his twin aloud, over his bound frame.

“An EXcellent idea, Sunny. I bet he has a lot of secrets to tell.”

Sideswipe touched the shockstick to his plating again, activating it for a short jolt. It was still set to low and the shock, while hurt wasn’t really bad. He then drunkenly peppered that plating with the small jolts randomly, obviously having no idea what a real interrogation looked and felt like; and much as knowing that it was a play, Starscream was secretly glad for it. He could have found far more painful places to hit had he known what he was doing. As it was, he jerked and whimpered a bit from the shocks but wasn’t overly worried.

Sunstreaker in the meanwhile tormented his spike in the best of ways as far as he was concerned, smirking slightly at the muffled moans that the Seeker made in protest and want. He plunged two digits into the ready valve, pumping them fast in and out, while his mouth engulfed the spike, denta scraping hard on its sensitive surface in a way that must have been more painful than pleasurable. The ring on the base stopped him from overloading and Sunstreaker was relentless. Lubricant dripped down his servo and flowed in thin lines over his forearms. The spike twitched and jerked in his mouth, hips trying to buckle up, to seek the release… but he denied it to the Seeker. 

Together they drove Starscream to the heights of pleasure while denying it to him. When Sunstreaker heard the almost audible whimpering from the direction of his helm, and felt the mindless want flare up in his field, he drew off the spike, biting the head lightly and jerked his digits off. Starscream’s optics were clenched tight and cleansing fluid collected beside them, flowing down on his faceplates. The wings almost rattled on the berth the shook so much, so wildly. His field was a huge, flickering beg for overload. His plating was near the melting point, almost burning, so hot with need and undispersed charge. Sideswipe caressed, teased him without the shockstick now, whispering nonsense into his audials.

Sunstreaker’s blow came as lightning from the clear sky. It bent the shoulder vent into almost half with the screech of metal. Red optics snapped open and stared up at him in an incredulous fear, limbs jerking in the reastraints uselessly. The charge wracking him with unspent pleasure changed fast into pain, then agony. The shockstick clanged on the other vent, its power switch set higher now, delivering a strong jolt that shook his frame for kliks. Sunstreaker smiled down on the suddenly fearful Seeker, his grimace holding cruelty and promising pain. The open-servoed slap snapped his helm to the side without warning, nearly snapping the neck cords. 

They settled down to the well-practiced rhythm coming from their bond; one blow from a golden servo, one shock from the black one, mirroring each other on his frame. Starscream shrieked even through the gag when his cockpit shattered from a blow and the stick slammed into the sensitive innards. He tried to shout the safe word, but was unable to do so. He tried to send it through the comm, only to find that one of the hits must have damaged his comm device. Starscream started to panic. Thrashing uselessly in the restraints, he tried to push the gag out so he could scream and shout for help. Sensors all over his frame and limbs burned with agony and his HUD informed him of structural damage.

Suddenly the punishments stopped and the tableau froze. In the quiet of the room only some crackling, sparking metal gave off a slight, little sound pinging as it cooled for nearly a klik in the silence. The twins stared down at him like mechs possessed, optics hard, ruthless, full of hate and anger. Then Sunstreaker slammed his spike into his valve viciously, pushing his whole frame upwards with the force of the thrusts, the restraints cutting into the plating of his legs. His earlier arousal long gone in agony, his valve was definitely not ready for penetration and the burning pain spread from inside out. The golden twin thrust ruthlessly and fast, working on his own overload, pulling out as soon as he shot him full of transfluid, laughing darkly, leaving the damaged, ruined Starscream still short of his own release. 

Sunstreaker circled around the berth to give his place to Sideswipe. He grabbed the wings without an iota of care in his strong grip, yanking them forward and up, bending the metal the way it wasn’t supposed to bend. Cables stretched taut and some snapped loose. Plating gave way and curled back from bare struts and delicate circuitry. Golden digits slammed among them, blunt tips drawn across the wings, scrapping the sensitive innards, flooding the sensors with agony. His strong servos rent and scrapped the lighter armour like it was nothing more than tinfoil.

Sideswipe used a klik of stop while his twin’s servos lifted away from the Seeker’s torn, mangled plating, dripping with energon, looking at him with wild, crazy optics - and he callously slammed the shockstick into the bleeding valve, jamming it deep and turning it on the highest setting.

That horrible scream finally got past the gag.


	7. Disbelief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First paragraph finishes off the previous scene. The rest is 'safe' to read.

Sideswipe plunged the shockstick into the spasming valve in and out like it was a berth toy, a false spike only. The smirk on his lips was cruel, taunting, his optics cold, burning violet. He acted like he heard no screams, he felt no desperate begging to stop in Starscream’s EM field, he saw no terror in his red optics. Sunstreaker left the barely hanging wing and tore apart the chest armor under the broken cockpit, destroying sensitive equipment and reaching his goal finally, clawing impatiently at the exposed spark chamber itself. 

Starscream felt like falling into a hole, a tear in the space-time continuum, straight back to where he so scarcely escaped from, into Megatron’s cruel servos in that dark torture cell. He felt black claws tearing his wings to tatters, the burn of the fusion cannon on his plating and the huge black spike ripping his valve apart. He heard cruel laugh and humiliating insults interspersed with his own screams and begging. He felt his strength ebbing as energon flowed from wounds and tears. He screamed inwardly as the digits started to rend his core, the one thing even Megatron never touched, wanting to defile his very spark.

Sideswipe didn’t hear when the door to their quarters slid open and a horrified Prime stood frozen in it before running in and tearing the red twin off the writhing, ruined and energon-covered frame on the berth. He felt being grabbed and thrown down but his processor failed to process what happened and he huddled down on the ground nearly paralyzed. Sunstreaker was torn off Starscream by a shocked Ironhide and kept restrained as he continued to flail and roar insults incoherently. Ratchet paid no attention to either of them, his horrified optics on the mangled frame on the berth. When Mirage reported the screams from the twins’ room they all expected somewhat of an opposite scenario, not this.

“Primus…”

“Ironhide, take them to the brig, both of them. Separated and restrained.”

The weapons master slapped cuffs on both twins, who by this time put up no more fight and actually looked as though just regaining consciousness. He grabbed them both and without mercy pushed them towards the door. No matter how he didn’t like the Seeker it was… abominable that was done to him. Sideswipe obeyed him, still dazed, energon dripping from his servos, optics wild but no more violet in colour, processor muddled and confused. At the doorway he stopped, looking back to the Seeker’s energon-splattered frame on the berth, mouth falling slightly open, like he wanted to ask _what the slag?_... but Ironhide pushed him out roughly. 

Ratchet immediately stabbed a strong sedative into the first main line he could find, before cut the stasis cuffs off and yanked the still activated shockstick out of the Seeker’s valve, throwing it hard away in his fury. He was thoroughly shocked by the amount and nature of the damage and had no spare processing power to contemplate why the twins would do such a thing. He patched the main energon line in the wing hinge that got ripped and some other torn lines to stop him bleeding out. Gently he picked out the bitten gag from between his slack lips and turned to Optimus. 

“Can you bring him to med-bay?” – he didn’t want to wait until a floating stretcher could be brought there.

“Of course, Ratchet.” – he turned, gently gathering up the Seeker’s slight form that looked even smaller in his arms.

“Careful with the cockpit. And the left wing. And the… just be careful.”

Optimus Prime nodded, carrying Starscream easily. On their way out, they met with Prowl and Optimus quickly gave him an order to secure the scene and start an investigation before Ratchet pulled him impatiently towards the med bay. They left at a brisk pace, the Seeker obviously in a bad way, needing immediate repairs.

Mirage materialized beside the door in shock as he saw them coming out. He was the one walking on the corridor and when heard the muffled screams from behind the door, he called the officers and Ratchet to deal with it – but he was nearly sure that it was Starscream doing something to the twins, not the other way round. Peeking into the room the trained spy’s optics took in the scene in every gory detail. Prowl arrived behind him, the tactician just as shocked by the terse words of Optimus as every other mech but collecting himself. An investigation would be necessary this time.

“Mirage, document everything in the room, no matter how unimportant it looks.” – Prowl ordered the dazed looking spy while he was doing the same.

Mirage nodded, turning on the video recorder and sweeping it around. The berth was obviously a mess but he left that for last. The other berth had a datapad on it, the highly technical text bookmarked not a joor ago that had to belong to Starscream, as none of the twins would touch one such with a ten foot pole. So he was reading here, waiting for the twins to come back from the battle. Mirage continued to record the room from the empty high-grade cubes till the last dropped polishing cloth, in a hope that it would help them understand why the twins just went berserk. A couple of empty cubes of high-grade was there, but no, he shook his helm. It wouldn’t, shouldn’t cause… this.

A joor later Prowl stood in front of the berth, deep in thoughts. The scene as he reconstructed it was a highly puzzling one, because there were signs that Starscream actually wasn’t protesting, or at first he wasn’t against the… depraved act. But on the other servo, the majority of signs showed the opposite picture, the torture and rape that could not have been consensual. Something was definitely missing from the picture. Deciding that they saw everything, he turned and left the energon-splattered room, locking it down on the way out with his most secure codes.

-o-o-o-

Ratchet swore almost continuously as he worked on Starscream. He sent Optimus away with the promise of a full report as soon as the Seeker was whole again and got down to work. The damage was… frightening, especially when he knew that it was caused by fellow Autobots. He just couldn’t wrap his processor about it. It was even worse than the time he turned up at the Ark asking for sanctuary, trailing loose parts and energon in his wake, half blind and very little sanity left, pursued by other Seekers. But that was caused by Megatron and this one was… no, he shook his helm. He didn’t want to go there yet.

After a good full joor of work he straightened up, looking over the Seeker. Aside from the scratches and some dried energon on his plating, he was as good as new, fixed inside and out all the gory damage, documenting every scratch for the hearing. Fortunately the spark-chamber had only a few scratches on it, not violated yet. The only thing remained to bring him online and see whether he was sane or not. Ratchet knew that Starscream was strong, could withstand damage that’d put any Autobot offline and recover from torture and rape… but would he recover from the break of trust that it took nearly a vorn to build up?

Unlike the rest of the Autobots, he used to watch Starscream not for expecting him to turn traitor, but checking on his mental state. It was tenuous enough after the abuse he’d gone through, and Ratchet strongly suspected that it included mental torture as well, the tyrant playing on his claustrophobia, his estrangement from the other Seekers and his inherent insecurities as well. And that was only the beginning, Starscream had to put up with mistrust and prejudice from every corner, including the one even Ratchet counted on as hopefully helping him. But Skyfire too gave the cold shoulder to the Seeker and there were a few groons when the medic wouldn’t have given a single credit for Starscream pulling through.

That was when the twins turned up and miraculously took up the mantle of the stable rock for the Seeker to be able to lean on. Ratchet looked on and silently wondered at the quirks of fate that put the mental well-being, indeed the very sanity of Starscream into the servos of two such unlikely mechs as the frontliner twins. Even more miraculous was that they managed to do a whooping good job and Starscream started to trust them, while he remained aloof from every other bot. The medic didn’t know what they did behind closed doors, but whatever it was – worked. Up to this point obviously, he thought bitterly, when they somehow lost it completely.

Starscream’s systems booted up normally and without a hitch. Anxiously watching, Ratchet even asked Wheeljack to be present, in case the Seeker was going to panic or go into a rage, but neither happened. The inventor could be counted on to stay silent and remain in the background if not needed. Starscream, on the berth came online and stayed unmoving, optics tightly shut as he just lay there. 

“Starscream…?” – he tried to elicit a response from the frozen Seeker.

The only response was a slight trembling of the wings.

“Starscream… how do you feel?”

Still no answer but Ratchet noticed a fat drop of optic cleanser welling up by his optic and flowing down on the dark metal. 

“It is all right now…” – he knew it was lame but he wanted to reassure him – “it is over. You are safe.”

A barely there hitch in the ex-vent.

“I know… but it is really over now.” – he paused a bit, very cautiously touching the blue metal of the left arm that jerked strongly at it – “Can you speak?”

“Yes.” – it was a whisper only, a broken, tired, hopeless voice that made Ratchet feel awful and murderously angry at the same time. But he kept it all out of his own tone, pouring as much compassion into it as he could.

“How do you feel?”

“Physically… functional.”

“And not physically?”

Silence answered only. Starscream still hasn’t opened his optics, like he wanted to stay inside, in his own mind, removed from reality.

“Starscream?”

“Like slag.” – the snort was bitter and dark – “slag warmed over and thrown out to a scrapheap… again.”

“Look, I know…” – Ratchet tried to console him but Starscream interrupted him like he hasn’t heard him speaking.

“If you finished, I’d like to go to my quarters.”

“Starscream…”

“What?”

“Are you sure?”

Apparently that was a wrong question to ask, because Ratchet now had the doubtful privilege of seeing him break down. The wings started to tremble, then shake with plates clanging together. He sat up and curled into a tight ball of silently sobbing Seeker, talons curling and clawing into the berth’s surface. Ratchet let him cry until it calmed into broken sobs, not talking, not even touching him – he knew better than try that – only letting his field convey calm and gentle assurance of safety. He waved Wheeljack out when it started, sure that he wouldn’t be needed that kind of help any more. It took several breems for Starscream to lift his helm again and look at the medic with bleak optics.

“That… that’s what he kept asking too.”

“Who?”

“S-sunstreaker.”

“I… don’t understand. How exactly this happened?”

“It was… we agreed to it. Consensual at first. We played it other times too.” – Ratchet’s optics widened in surprise – “but then they… they… went berserk. Ignored my pleas. Ignored begging. Ignored the damage. Just continued to do it, like… like…” – he broke down again.

“I… see. So it started out as… consensual play? Even the restraints, the shockstick?”

“Y-yes… we’ve done it a few times. With safe word and all that slag. And it was good.” – he ex-vented deeply a few times before continuing. – “So I wasn’t much worried this time either. Sure, they started it a bit strange…”

“How so?”

“They’ve always asked first before. Now… nothing. It was supposed to be a play, like a captured Con spy. Interrogation. You know. But then… it turned real…” – his voice hitched again, the forced composure crumbling again. – “I… I can’t … let me go!”

“All right, Starscream, please calm down! Of course you can go, you are fixed and can recover in your quarters. I will escort you there, okay?”

Starscream nodded jerkily and slid off the berth, standing on shaking, barely strong enough legs, leaning onto it for support. Ratchet moved to help him but he lurched away, starting towards the door on unsteady but determined legs. The Autobot medic shook his helm slightly, but refrained from making a comment. It wasn’t really the time for snarking. He went after the Seeker, following him in case a support was needed, but otherwise letting him go alone. Once in his quarters, Starscream once more assured Ratchet that he’d be all right and the medic had to accept the lie, no matter how much he saw the forced nature of it. He was very much aware of the fact that right now Starscream trusted exactly one mech: himself.

-o-o-o-

Optimus Prime and his officers convened in the conference room. It wasn’t the formal hearing yet, just their own sharing of what each officer learned; Ratchet from Starscream, Prowl from examining the signs and Jazz what he could glean from the two shocked, separated twins in the brig. He wasn’t sure what to think and though he kept an open mind, ready to accept if there were any extenuating circumstances – he didn’t exactly knew what those could be in such an act. Nevertheless, he wanted to understand what made Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to do this. But first things first…

“Ratchet? How is Starscream?”

“Physically healed. Mentally… he clammed up tighter than an artillery shell. Won’t come out from that any time soon I’d say. He’s in his quarters, off the duty roster indefinitely.”

“Was he able to tell what happened?”

“Not in details, but… yes. Basically that it started out as consensual, kinky, interfacing play…” – Ratchet ignored the shocked looks and gasps from the others and continued. – “Apparently they’ve been playing such _games_ for quite a while without problems. He doesn’t know why or what went wrong this time but clearly said that his safe word and pleas were ignored.”

“Jazz? Is it consistent with what they’ve said?”

“More or less, yeah. They said that Starscream gave them permission ta handle him in a dom-sub setting, including restraints and even pain, with a set safe word. They said that he enjoyed it. When Ah asked them about this time, they seemed… confused.”

“Confused how?”

“Like… like they didn’t know why they were thrown ta the brig, why is everyone mad at them and generally… what happened.”

“You mean Jazz that they… don’t remember?”

“No, Prime. They seem ta remember that it all went like usual. They were both shocked ta learn that Starscream is in the med bay and in a bad way.”

Well… that was surprising for them all. Optimus Prime glanced at Ratchet who was already scowling. He knew what the Prime was going to ask.

“Ratchet, examine them for all foreign substances, coding, viruses or whatever that could cause this behaviour.”

“Will do it at once.”

“I found a new batch of Sideswipe’s contraband high-grade that might be suspect. Maybe Ratchet can examine that too for its effects, because it is highly suspicious. Moreover, they’ve imbibed it some time before the… events. We’ve found recently emptied cubes.” – Prowl added.

Ironhide spoke up gruffly. 

“Not wanting ta defend them, but when Ah took them ta the brig, their optics were mightily strange. Almost violet in colour and they did look offa their hinges.”

“Agreed then. Ratchet please do this soon, before the hearing. But I want to stress that I do not consider the state of being simply overcharged to be exonerating from the consequences of their actions. Jazz, please enlighten them to the full effect of what they did.”

Jazz turned back after the others left the room to look at Optimus Prime again.

“Prime… you do remember that for Sunstreaker it’s second offense, right?”

Optimus Prime looked back with bleak optics, responsibility and hard decisions weighing on him like he bore Cybertron itself on his shoulders.

“I know Jazz. If he’s found guilty, it’s permanent stasis for him until the war’s end and possibly reprogramming after.”

“And for Sides too, ‘cause of the twin bond.”

“That too.”

-o-o-o-

The hearing went as well as could be expected for such a dark matter. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker denied of harming Starscream deliberately and maintained that they only remembered the safe part of the events. Ratchet found nothing in their energon or processor that could be called as outside influence, but he pronounced the batch of high-grade as a mild hallucinogen. Starscream refused to be even in the same room as the twins and his version of the events were told by the medic. 

“We never wanted to hurt him!” – Sideswipe shouted over Prowl’s dispassionate recounting of the events. – “Star asked us to play this way! He convinced us! I didn’t even want to, because of his history!”

“Sideswipe, you know that it is not what you did before what we question here.” – Optimus Prime was sure that something was wrong here, but he had no idea what. It frustrated him, but he had to act according to the rules.

“But we didn’t do it!”

“Sideswipe, you two were caught torturing Starscream, well beyond what such a ‘play’ could contain and he revoked the consent at one point.” – Prowl interjected. – “It is my understanding that such practices can only last until consent is given freely.”

“I don’t remember doing to him what Jazz told us.” – Sunstreaker was unusually quiet – “But I don’t remember him saying the safe word either.”

“But the damage itself…” – Ratchet started to speak but Sunstreaker interrupted him before finishing the sentence.

“No. Until the safe word is said anything goes. This is the rule. I never wanted to harm Star that much, nor do I remember doing it, but technically we didn’t do wrong.”

“And pray tell me how can a safe word be said with a gag?!?”

“By comm link.”

“Which was conveniently crushed by a hit to his helm.” – Ratchet snapped back.

Sunstreaker looked up shocked. – “I didn’t know that…”

“He said that he was trying to convey it but couldn’t.”

“Then it wasn’t said.” – Sideswipe was quick to grab the technicality – “I still don’t really understand how we don’t remember and why would we have done it…”

“Do you remember the high grade?”

“Yeah. But we only had one cube. Well, Star didn’t even drink his, I finished that one off.”

“My tests tell me that it is a hallucinogen and an aphrodisiac. I’m not sure what you distilled into it, but I wouldn’t drink it. I especially wouldn’t drink it and then play torture games.”

“But I’ve tried it before and nothing happened!”

“All right, stop this. Ratchet, in your professional opinion, one, maybe one and a half cube of that energon would be enough to make a mech act so extreme and forget completely?” – Optimus Prime didn’t think so, but then he wasn’t a medic.

“I don’t know, Prime, I really don’t. The stuff is potent but they aren’t strangers to high-grade. But apparently, considering what happened… it is.”

Ironhide spoke up, gruff but thinking hard.

“What if… Ah don’t mean it is so, just a possibility, so what if Screamer’s not as truthful as we believe ‘im ta be?”

“What do you mean Ironhide? That he faked the injuries?”

“Nah, Ah’m not stupid. We saw it. But Screamer, he can take pain, that we all know. What if he really didn’t say that word and let ‘em torture him, maybe even provoked them into it… ta implicate the twins? The loss of two of our frontliners would be a great loss to us.”

The officers stayed quiet for nearly a breem, each considering very carefully what Ironhide has just said. Even though it sounded a bit far-fetched, neither could just dismiss the idea as baseless paranoia. Starscream was known to plot and plan long-term and being devious. If he was a Decepticon still, as many suspected, he could have done it. It was perplexing though that the only ones not believing in it were the twins. 

“Star is not a Decepticon any more…” – Sideswipe knew that he spoke against their own interests but it was the truth – “We know him best and he is no agent.” – Sunstreaker just nodded to him, agreeing.

“It would be exactly the kind of a thing a good undercover agent should do.” – Jazz noted. 

“Even if it is true, that still leaves the amount of damage the twins did to him. Why?” – Ratchet wasn’t really happy with the idea that much they could clearly see.

“The high-grade’s effect.” – Red Alert spoke up, already considering just what he’d need to tighten in security if the Seeker was truly a Decepticon agent.

“Possible, but a far-fetched plot even for Starscream. He couldn’t have known that the twins even start to romp with him at all or could be convinced to play rough.” – Prowl seemed to assign a low probability for the idea, influencing their attitude too.

“Is there a way to ascertain of this, Jazz?”

“Ah don’t know Prime… unless we can gather proof from the Cons, Ah’m afraid… no.”

“Could you do it, Jazz? If so, how soon?”

“No, Prime. Ah can’t guarantee ta give you proof for something that might not even exist. After Starscream defected, we did look into the matter of him being an undercover agent and found no proof whatsoever. Ah can’t promise you that we can find any now – if it exists at all.”

“In that case, I can see only one scenario with any kind of a support to it: what Starscream told Ratchet. The twins don’t remember anything, Ironhide’s theory has only indirect probability while the recorded facts support Starscream’s version of the events. Anyone wants to add something?”

Optimus Prime looked around, making optic contact with all his officers to ascertain that they have all told what they considered relevant. Neither of them looked comfortable, not even Prowl, but they all said what they wanted. It was now his duty to make a decision. The twins sat frozen on their seats, waiting for the verdict.

“Very well. Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, I have no choice but pronounce you guilty of unpremeditated torture and rape, but recognize some extenuating circumstances. Your sentence will be to be assigned to the brig until further notice, undergo counseling sessions to work on your issues and until we can assure that such events won’t happen again and revoke all privileges you have enjoyed so far as Autobots. From now on, you are convicts.” – he looked hard at them, squashing any wish to protest with his strict stare – “I don’t want to hear any more. I have already lessened your sentence due to the uncertain circumstances, as it was Sunstreaker’s second offence. And you both know what that would have meant.”

Sideswipe nodded his helm unhappily. No matter that they still both insisted on their innocence, he couldn’t ignore the facts that stared into his face. His memories of what happened started as he looked back from the doorway, prodded by Ironhide, already handcuffed, shocked at the sight on the berth. He couldn’t believe that they’ve done that, but he was splattered with various fluids, bits of wires and scraps were stuck in Sunstreaker’s servo joints, dripping still with warm energon and he still felt the last tingles of an overload. And something else… a lingering, not quite memory of a fury that wasn’t his. Must have been Sunny’s, he decided, not as though his twin understood more of what was happening than him.

They were looking forward to a long-long stay in the brig if the condition of their freedom – however limited – was Sunstreaker calming down. But he had one thing first and foremost in his processor, overwhelming even his worry about their fate, wanting to come out, to ask it aloud - but he simply couldn’t. So it rolled around in his helm, while they were led out and down to the brigs, into separate cells.

_“How is Starscream going to take it?”_


	8. Truth

A full groon was gone, the events as they inevitably got out caused a shock among the Autobots of the Ark. Even though they mostly didn’t like the Seeker still, they believed to Ratchet and many could imagine the always volatile twins as finally loosing it and cause real damage. That their victim was Starscream, they could even understand, many even approve of. The twins lived in the brig now, only let out separately for duty shifts and battles, generally shunned by most mechs, even those who blamed the Seeker as well. They never stopped maintaining their innocence in the events as going no further than consensual, kinky interface, even in the face of evidence otherwise.

Starscream was rarely if ever seen outside his quarters, although what he did there all orns long was a mystery for many. If visited by someone, which happened rarely after a while, he was closed, cold and barely answering questions. He even kept his flying to a bare minimum, partly to not to give any more fuel for those still seeing him a potential traitor, partly for not giving the Cons any more occasion to attack him. Occasionally he passed a datapad with notes, sketches and complete designs of various weapons and useful devices to Ratchet, the only one he spoke to, but he never went to the labs to help in building them any more.

Consequently, he never knew that Frenzy was caught sneaking around in the vents and thrown to the brig. The same one that contained two, by this time barely civilized mechs in separate cells…

“Frag you, blabbermouth! I know more than any mech about your fellow Autodorks’ secrets!” – the obnoxious cassette shouted out of the custom built cell, specially for minibots and cassettes. 

“Maybe I don’t want to know their secrets, you know? It is called common courtesy, something you are obviously not familiar with. Although I wonder how you manage it with your fellow cassettes if you don’t, well, not my problem either, you can fight with them for all I care, you know, just wondering here. It is fairly boring guarding the brig and I have time to think and sometimes talk as well.”

“Shut up, glitchhelm!” – Frenzy was secretly impressed by the Autobot’s capacity to blabber. 

“I don’t think I have to, it is not that you can make me and I’m quite used to insolent Decepticon prisoners, so your insults don’t bother me really and your secrets you can also keep. It isn’t like you could discover anything sensitive, we have better protection around sensitive places than you could pass, and what we do in our private quarters is not going to change the war.”

“Maybe not, maybe yes.” – Frenzy’s grin was almost maniac – “Some quarters hold juicier secrets than others and do change the war.”

“If you want to taunt me with tales of interfacing, then you may do so and I will enjoy listening to them.” – Bluestreak was quite far from the carefully maintained innocent babbler persona – “I truly enjoy some of those stories and I don’t think you can say anything that’d surprise me. I mean obviously the few of us live in such close quarters, it is really hard to miss who is with whom and who breaks off with somemech else and what new relationships form.”

“So nothing can surprise you, ehh? What about your fellow mechs beating the slag out of Screamer?”

Bluestreak’s pleasant façade darkened for a klik but he put it back fast and answered, unusually short for him.

“That is hardly news. Sad, but we all know of it.”

Frenzy’s grin widened. – “It was still _educating_ to watch. Mindless ferocity first class. Megsy loved the way it came out.”

Bluestreak froze. The cassette has actually seen it? _Megatron_ has actually seen it? Was it instigated maybe, after all? It was a disconcerting thought. Comming to Jazz, he continued to chatter aloud to Frenzy, easily holding the two separate conversations with two mechs.

_::Jazz, maybe you would like to investigate it, I’m not sure what to make of it, but it is sure suspicious as Pit and I’m sorry to wake you up from recharge, I just realized the time and I’m truly sorry, but I thought that you should…::_

_::Blue. Short version. What happened?::_ \- Jazz predictably didn’t sound happy to be awakened in the middle of his recharge cycle.

_::Ohh, I’m sorry I am in the brig, guarding Frenzy and he talks a lot and tried to taunt me too but I noticed something that could be important but then it could be discussed next orn really, and I am sorry to bother…”_

_::Blue.::_ \- a bit more forceful now - _::What did he say? Or do?::_

_::He said that he watched the, you know the twins and Starscream last groon and he made it sound like Megatron knew about it before and seen as well and I wondered how he could be there and what he….”_

_::Okay. What do you want me to do now?::_

_::I, I… I thought that you could interrogate him, you know that I know that you can make mechs talk just about everything.::_

_::Cassettes are very hard to hack. Soundwave makes their firewalls, first grade all of them. It takes a lot of effort to even attempt to hack him – I only do if I want something specific from his processor. Not on a hunch.::_

_::B-but Jazz, don’t you want to know what happened really? I mean I don’t know much about all that but something was wrong there; just no mech could put their digits on what it could have been….::_

_::Yeah, Blue, right. Sorry, I snapped at you. I’ll be down there in a breem. Or… considering that the twins are there, bring Frenzy to interrogation room A1.::_

_::Thank you Jazz, I will do that and again I am sorry to bother…::_

_::Will meet you there. Jazz out.::_

Frenzy was understandably bemused and a little afraid to be taken out of his cell in the middle of the dark cycle and even more so when he saw the Autobot TIC in the room he was taken to. Not that the bots tortured prisoners, he, the spy knew that fairly well, but he also knew that there were ways of extracting information with other, only slightly less painful methods. And the Autobot saboteur was a master of those unfortunately; that, many Decepticon prisoners could attest to. 

-o-o-o-

“Prime, have you got a breem for me?”

“Of course Jazz. Come in.” – not many mechs could online from recharge earlier than Optimus Prime and not find him in his office, dealing with his various work. Jazz was one.

“Prime, I had a serious revelation during the dark cycle. Blue heard something from Frenzy and I followed it up and from him I got to know a serious issue.”

“What, Jazz?”

“You remember the twins and Starscream right? We did wonder what could have caused their temporal insanity, but found nothing. Now I did. It was a virus after all.”

“What? But Ratchet didn’t find any…”

“It deleted itself after acting. A nasty piece of code it was, Frenzy’s work.”

“I see. Tell me all that you’ve learned.”

“The full story is this. Laserbeak observed them earlier to engage in that kind of a play they told us about and took the news back to the Nemesis. Megatron apparently enjoyed watching it, but said that the twins were too tame and he decided to get back at Starscream, while shorting us of two of our strongest fighters. Frenzy then wrote a code that acted to magnify aggressive tendencies into outright sadism and shot them in a battle with the virus containing it. The code activated when they first saw Starscream and deleted itself when they were discovered. It was a miracle that Mirage heard him in time, because the code was intended to deactivate him by the torture.”

Jazz was somber as he related the story to his leader. He was one of those who secretly believed that Starscream played the whole thing and now he was feeling remorse for accusing him, even if it happened just in his own processor. Optimus on the other servo was completely nonplussed, nearly shocked by the revelation.

“We must correct this at once. I can’t believe…”

“Ah can actually believe Megatron ordering it.” – Jazz murmured

“Come now. Starscream should be the first to know.”

“Understand, Sir.”

On the way to the Seeker’s quarters, Optimus called his other officers to his office later, to notify them about the news. This would require heavy reparations for the mechs involved and a lot of care from the rest of them before any kind of normalcy returned to them.

“Starscream, can we go in?”

The door swooshed open in a few kliks, revealing the almost completely dark quarters. Optimus stepped in, curious about the reason for the dark, as Starscream was obviously in. He was sitting on the berth, on the surface calm and collected, with closed expression that they were used to by this time. Only when the light seeped in from the corridor, Optimus saw the wings shaking and the red optics shine with fluid, like he cried not long ago and barely made himself presentable for them. He didn’t speak up, barely even glanced at them.

“Starscream, I know that it is hard to tear wounds open, but we have gained intelligence that concerns you.”

The Seeker looked up but still said nothing, reacted in no way.

“It is about the… accident a groon ago. We discovered that it was Megatron’s attempt at deactivating you and not, after all Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s fault. They were controlled by a virus, not acting their own will or wish. While I know it doesn’t change what happened to you, I thought that you would want to know.”

Starscream looked up sharply at Optimus Prime, optics flashing and vents gasping at his shock. 

“H-how do you know it is true?” – his voice trembled just a little.

“Ah have interrogated Frenzy mahself. He wrote the virus.” – Jazz explained.

Starscream stared at them for some kliks his wings twitching in nervous tension before blinking slowly.

“So they will be freed now, I guess.”

“Yes. We can’t hold them prisoner now that their innocence is proven.” – Optimus Prime knew that it wasn’t going to be easy on either of the mechs involved. He would watch events very carefully now, just as the other officers. – “The virus, or rather the malicious code Frenzy wrote acted, not them. I know that it is not a…”

“Thank you for notifying me.” – Starscream interrupted the Prime in a cold, closed tone. – “I’ll make sure not to cross their path.”

“Starscream, if we can help in any…”

“You can’t.”

“But I’m sure…”

“Please, leave.”

“All right then…”

To say that the twins were glad to hear the news was an understatement. Their relief to be free to go, regain their status and renown was enough even to overwrite their anger at being convicted. Mechs rumored that Sunstreaker was in the wash-racks for four joors straight after being let go from the brig and the twins interfaced each other into offlining for the rest of the whole orn; but it had to be a rumor only. After all, no other mech was there, bar Sideswipe and he wouldn’t tell. The red mech himself asked every sheepish, guilty-looking mechs in the rec room about Starscream and looked distinctly unhappy at the news he heard. But they were strongly advised not to seek out with the Seeker, not to initiate any contact at first and they instinctly felt that to wait more would be the better idea.


	9. Try again

“Sunny. We should go and talk to Star now.”

Sunstreaker looked up from his painting to see his twin stand over him, looking pointedly to the sheet. He didn’t even realize that he started to sketch the Seeker again, this time as a small, colourful flying figure among the endless blue of sea and sky of Earth. He scowled. None of them could forget Starscream, no matter that the Seeker studiously avoided them still, after nearly three vorns. He was almost a hero by this time, a great change from the distrusted, shunned mech of before; after all it was his design of the weapon that finally took down Megatron, caused Soundwave to surrender and effectively ended the war. 

What remained of the warlord was now in a spark-prison, in Sideswipe’s opinion a fate worse than deactivation, but he wasn’t going to speak up for Megatron anyhow. Most of the Decepticons scattered in the universe and were slowly hunted down when they caused trouble; while some of them surrendered with Soundwave and with more or less problems integrated to being civilians and live in peace. Many of the former Autobots remained in a quasi-military formation, called Peacekeepers, much like the former Enforcers, to keep the order. The rest reverted back to a civilian role, with Optimus Prime in firm control now, not letting any bureaucracy to take reins and foul the system again.

Sideswipe had a well-established business to help the rebuilding effort, with Swindle, who was still not a full citizen, but eager to make profit already nonetheless. Sunstreaker created art and remained with the Peacekeepers because he missed being active and an occasionally fight as well. They lived together in a spacious apartment in Iacon and by unspoken agreement never took a serious lover, only temporal berth-partners, never with an obligation. Sideswipe never made it a secret that he still hoped that Starscream would return to them one orn, while Sunstreaker tried to completely bury his similar wish, fearing that it’d never come true.

The Seeker nearly disappeared after the war, despite of mechs wanting to celebrate him as a hero. Later Sideswipe learned in a roundabout way that he departed for long, solitary space journeys, the farther the better, to explore; and between journeys he continued to work in his own lab, at his estate, where he also grew fancy crystals for sale. Space at least was not a problem in the completely gutted planet, with so few of them living long enough to see the war end. It would be millenias before they grew enough in numbers even nearly to Cybertron’s capacity to sustain. So more or less each mech just choose a spot and built whatever house or estate they wanted to, with the capital city, Iacon enjoying the most popularity. 

“He wouldn’t talk to us, you know. We tried.”

They did indeed try, many times. Starscream never let them into his estate, his lab or his exploratory ship and when they tried to approach him in a public place, the Seeker simply took off and stopped appearing in one. He never took their comm calls and when Sideswipe tried from a false ID, he cut the call the very klik he discovered who the caller was. After a while they were advised, then strongly warned by the Prime to stop harassing the Seeker: _‘He’ll come back to you on his own terms or never’_ was what Sideswipe remembered about that and no matter how much it hurt, he tried to keep to that afterwards. But even that was nearly a vorn ago and he started to get desperate. Never was not a term he wanted to contemplate.

“But why, if he forgave us?”

Sunstreaker shrugged. He wasn’t sure of the reason either, but after the Seeker’s terse, written message, mere orns after their freedom, pronouncing that he didn’t hold them responsible and forgave what they’ve done under influence of the virus but asked them to keep their distance for awhile, it was clear that he didn’t expect the separation between them to last this long either. Not to this degree anyway, with not seeing him at all these orns.

“He needs to get over it still, I guess. Ratchet said that sparks don’t heal so fast as frames.”

“He’d know…”

Ratchet was still the only former Autobot whom Starscream was willing to speak more than a few, terse glyphs. Of the Decepticons, none were able to get even close to him, not even his former Trine, whom he officially renounced way back, after they pursued him till the Ark on Megatron’s orders when he escaped from the Nemesis. Thundercracker kept trying, stayed on Cybertron, became a civilian and asked Starscream to forgive him regularly like clockwork, every vorn; although he didn’t try flying after him after a strong warning from the peacekeepers, who kept a close watch on the former Decepticons. To Sideswipe’s best knowledge Starscream never so much as acknowledged his existence. Skywarp disappeared. He accused Thundercracker with betraying him for Starscream and after a huge breakup scene, he left Cybertron and never came back.

Skyfire, after rejecting Starscream stubbornly for vorns slowly realized just how much he’s gone through to become what he was, while the shuttle slept under the ice, innocent of the world going by. Their sporadic, inevitable meeting within the scientific circles just fuelled his guilt over not being there for the Seeker when the latter needed the most. But his proverbial thawing out seemed just as late as all the others’ regret and he was ignored soundly as well, outside the strictly necessary contact. Starscream became a total recluse, living for his work completely, closed off from every mech tighter than a clam.

“Sideswipe to Starscream. Star, please answer. I beg you!”

Sideswipe couldn’t stop himself from trying to comm the estate, then the lab. No answer came and after a klik, the comm unit answered with the red of the ‘refused connecting, blacklisted ID’ sign. He swung a servo, but stopped himself – there was no point in destroying yet another comm unit.

“I told you.”

“Frag you!”

“I tried the other orn too.”

“You didn’t!” – Sideswipe stared at his twin. Sunstreaker never fully admitted of missing Starscream so much as himself. 

“I did. I went there too.”

“And?”

“And nothing. He didn’t let me in even as a Peacekeeper.”

“You tried to get in under the pretense of… Sunny!”

“No! We really had business there. A rogue Con was seen and we had to ask around.”

“So… he doesn’t want anything with us.”

“No, Sides. Maybe… maybe we should give u…”

But Sideswipe didn’t want to hear it so he silenced Sunstreaker with a deep kiss. It was desperate, hungry and aggressive and Sunstreaker gave it back the same way, biting and glossa fighting for dominance. Sideswipe’s digits dipped into his shoulder seams, fondling the wires there and latching on as his twin bent him backwards, dominating like always. He felt the golden servo caressing his sensory horns and moaned low, leaning into the caress, pushing it into the eager servo. He lifted one leg, hooking it over his brother’s waist, digging his heel into the plating.

A buzzer sounded from the outside, a short sound signalling visitor at the door. Sideswipe snarled frustrated and caught his twin’s mouth again. _::Must be Swindle::_ he conveyed to Sunstreaker, who shrugged once, short. _::Let him wait::_ , he told shortly before catching Sideswipe’s arms and threw him onto the berth, straddling his legs and leaning over him to continue the kiss. His left servo groped downwards, sipping into seams until he reached the red mech’s interface panel. Still kissing Sideswipe, he started to rub the edges, feeling the metal heat up slowly.

“Well, well. Still going at it like petrorabbits, I see.”

Sunstreaker lifted his helm and snarling, he turned towards the door, expecting Swindle somehow gaining entrance and tease them so. But he saw nobody there, not a single mech. Even a cassette couldn’t have hidden itself so well in such a short time. It was only after a few kliks that the actual tone of voice registered in his processor, one that he heard so long ago the last time. They both jumped up then, charge dissipating quickly, as they were frantically looking for the source, still more than half sure that they were being pranked. 

“Here, you idiots.”

The voice came from the balcony. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe turned as one, slowly, like they were still afraid that it was going to be a hallucination. But it wasn’t.

In the middle of the balcony a tricoloured frame stood, arms crossed over a gleaming, golden cockpit, wings flexing up nervously, their white shine catching the red of the Sun, twitching a bit, but hopeful. The voice trembled a little underneath the forced nonchalance.

“Mind if I come in?”

**Author's Note:**

> klik – Cybertronian second, breem - Cybertronian minute, joor – Cybertronian hour, orn/cycle – Cybertronian day, groon – Cybertronian month, stellar cycle – local (Earth) year, vorn – Cybertronian year (a lot of Earth years). Hic – Cybertronian kilometer


End file.
